Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist
by MercurialLily
Summary: High school AU. When Elizabeta Héderváry transfers to a new school, she is captivated by the mysterious, lonely Gilbert Beilschmidt. What secrets may he be hiding-and how far will Elizabeta go to find out? T.
1. Hello (Lionel Ritchie)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

_**A/N:**_** This plot basically popped into my head while I was half-asleep. I have no clue where it'll go. You have been warned! ****Yes, the title is a rip-off of Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. I just thought it sounded cool.**

**Each chapter is going to be named after a song title, which may give clues to what the chapter will be about. Or not. I don't know, it's terribly planned out D,:**

**It's a high-school AU, so most of the characters are 16-17 (Grade 11, eleventh grade, junior, what have you) unless otherwise noted. Elizabeta has transferred part-way through first semester.**

"I'll see you later, sweetie! Have a good first day!" Mrs. Héderváry said as her daughter stepped out of the car. "You're going to have a great time."

Elizabeta took up her bag and smiled. "Thanks, Mom." She waved and turned to face the school. It was an old Gothic-style building, three stories high. Her old school was a modest two-story building with an inviting exterior.

"Well, here goes nothing," Elizabeta murmured to herself as she started up the stairs leading to the front doors. Taking a breath, she opened the door and entered the school.

The building had a musty smell similar to that of an old library. The carpet in the foyer was a deep red, and what floor she could see was a shiny hardwood. Directly to her left was a staircase, and a little ways to the right was what looked to be the main office. _That's where I need to go._ As she walked toward the office, she was suddenly bumped by a student heading for the stairs.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" the student shouted, clearly annoyed.

"I-I'm so sorry," Elizabeta apologized. She looked up, wanting to see who she bumped into. The student was a boy, relatively tall and slender, wearing a red hoodie over his uniform shirt. The thing she found most fascinating about him was his snow-white hair and dark red eyes. He was so different from anyone else she'd ever seen.

The boy glared at her. "Yeah, just be more careful next time," he snapped as he made his way to the stairs.

Elizabeta stared after him for a while before continuing to the office. As soon as she opened the office doors, she heard the bell ring. "Great," she muttered. "Late on my first day..."

"Can I help you?"

Elizabeta looked up. She saw a young secretary smiling at her from the front desk. Elizabeta nodded and said, "Yes, actually. My name is Elizabeta Héderváry. I just transferred here."

The secretary tapped on her keyboard. After a short pause, she replied, "Ah, here you are. Elizabeta Héderváry... You are in Mr. Vargas' homeroom class. He's on the second floor. Room 221. You have a map, don't you? I'll still give you directions. Go up the stairs across the hall and turn right. The room is the second door on the left."

"Thank you," Elizabeta said as she left the office and headed up the stairs. "Turn right... Second door on the left... Ah!" Taking a second to look as presentable as possible, she knocked on the door.

She heard a clamour from inside the classroom before the door was opened by a middle-aged man with dark hair. "You must be our new student," he said with a smile. "Your name is...?"

"Elizabeta Héderváry," Elizabeta replied. "You're Mr. Vargas, right?"

"That's right. Come in, we've been expecting you." Mr. Vargas ushered Elizabeta into the room and clapped his hands to get the students' attention. "Everyone, this is your new classmate, Elizabeta Héderváry. She just transferred here recently. Please make her feel welcome."

As Mr. Vargas introduced her, Elizabeta looked around the room. Some of the students were watching her curiously while others looked as though they couldn't care less. One student, sitting in the back corner by the window, stood out from the rest. Elizabeta's eyes widened slightly. It was the boy she'd bumped into earlier. He was looking out the window, utterly disinterested in what was going on.

"Elizabeta, you may sit between Lukas and Antonio," Mr. Vargas said as he pointed to an empty desk near the back of the room.

"Thank you, sir." Elizabeta made her way through the aisle of desks before sitting down at her assigned seat. To her right was a bored-looking blonde boy with a strange cross-shaped barette in his hair; to her left was a smiley brunette boy with striking green eyes. As Elizabeta set her bag at her feet, the brown-haired boy greeted her.

"Hi! I'm Antonio," he said. "It's nice to meet you."

Elizabeta smiled politely. "It's nice to meet you too, Antonio. If you couldn't guess, I'm Elizabeta."

Antonio laughed slightly. "You're funny."

"All right, class," Mr. Vargas said. "Please turn to page 130 in your textbooks..."

. . . . .

The bell rang to signal the end of class. While most of the students left the room quickly, Elizabeta took her time packing her things. As she stood up, a blonde girl from the front of the room walked over to her. "Hey, Elizabeta Héderváry. My name's Laura Dupont."

"Um, hi," Elizabeta said, picking up her bag. "Can you tell me how to get to the cafeteria?"

"You have lunch now?" Laura asked. "Me too! I'll show the way. If you don't mind, I'll sit with you so you're not lonely."

Elizabeta smiled. "Thanks. Lead the way!"

Laura smiled back and led Elizabeta out of the classroom. Once they were out in the hall, the strange boy from that morning brushed past them, nearly knocking Elizabeta down.

"Hey!" Laura yelled. "Watch out, you idiot!"

The boy glanced over his shoulder. "Whatever," he said as he kept walking.

Laura shook her head. "The nerve of some people."

"It's okay," Elizabeta said. "He didn't hurt me or anything. It was just an accident."

"I doubt it. He's a jerk to everyone. No wonder he has no friends."

"What's his name?" Elizabeta asked.

"Gilbert," Laura answered. "Gilbert Beilschmidt."

_**A/N:**_** Ooh, terrible cliffhanger! XD**

**Mr. Vargas-Ancient Rome**

**Laura Dupont-Belgium**

**Did anyone catch Antonio trying to be flirty? What a dork. But we love him anyway.**

**Also, yes, I made Gilbert sit in the cliché anime spot because why the hell not?**

**Like I said before, I don't quite know how this story is going to play out. However, I hoped you enjoyed!**


	2. It's Time (Imagine Dragons)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

_**A/N:**_** And here's Chapter 2.**

"Gilbert Beilschmidt? Why do you want to know about him?"

Elizabeta was sitting in the cafeteria with Laura and Laura's friend Natalya Arlovskaya, who was also in their homeroom class. Natalya had asked the question.

"I'm just curious, that's all," Elizabeta replied. "Laura said he doesn't have any friends."

"He's rude, weird-looking, and just plain creepy," Natalya stated bluntly. "That's why he has no friends. I don't think anyone in our class has even talked to him this year."

"No one spoke to him last year either," Laura added.

Elizabeta frowned slightly. "Maybe he's just shy. You'll never know unless you talk to-"

"I wouldn't talk to him even if you paid me a million dollars!" Natalya exclaimed. "He's just so... Ugh." She shuddered.

"Now, Natalya. That's mean." Laura looked at Elizabeta. "You could be right about him being shy. But one of the reasons nobody talks to him is because of his general attitude. He doesn't pay attention in class, he talks back to teachers, and if he runs into you in the hall he doesn't apologize. You experienced that first-hand. In the words of my teacher from last year, I don't know why he shows up at all. I'm almost certain he's failing most of his classes."

"You can't be so dismissive about him," Elizabeta said. "Did you ever give him a chance?"

"Um..." Laura glanced at Natalya, who shook her head and shrugged. "We, uh, have never seen any reason to?"

Elizabeta shook her head and stood up. "I'm going to look around the school," she said, picking up her bag. "I'll see you two later." With that, she left the cafeteria.

Natalya nudged Laura. "How much do you want to bet she's going to look for Beilschmidt?"

Laura shrugged. "She seems really determined to get to know him."

. . . .

Elizabeta wandered through the halls of the first floor. Despite the fact that it was lunch, there were no other students around. When she entered a back stairwell to look upstairs, she heard a quiet muttering coming from an area she couldn't see at the top of the stairs. "Hello?" Elizabeta called.

The muttering stopped. Now all she could hear was quiet breathing.

Elizabeta ascended the stairs. There she saw, in the corner of the landing, the boy in the red hoodie. He was watching her uneasily. As she approached him, he stepped back.

"What do you want, transfer?" he asked in a low voice.

"I have a name, you know," Elizabeta responded. "You were in my homeroom class. I'm Eliza-"

"Elizabeta Héderváry." The boy nodded. "I was paying attention. But I have no interest in transfer students."

Elizabeta frowned. "Laura and Natalya were right. You _are_ rude." With a shake of her head, she added, "No wonder they said you have no friends."

"They don't know anything. They think they're better than everyone else. And then you show up and they act like you're God's gift to the school!" He rolled his eyes. "You don't know who I am, so who are you to judge?"

"I know your name. It's Gilbert Beilschmidt, isn't it?"

The boy, Gilbert, scowled. "So they told you my name, huh? Figures. They're trying to turn you against me."

"It's not like that," Elizabeta said. "I asked who you were so I could try and get to know you."

"Why the hell do you want to get to know me?" Gilbert demanded. He eyed her suspiciously.

"You seem lonely, that's all." Elizabeta smiled softly. "I'd like to be your friend. Is that okay?"

"No. Go away."

"But-"

"Just leave me alone, all right?" Gilbert snapped, picking up his bag. "I really don't understand why you want to talk to me."

Elizabeta paused slightly. Then she said, "You seem like an interesting person. But you also seem like you just need someone to talk to." She shrugged. "I don't know, I'm probably wasting my time. You're clearly not interested in conversing with me."

"I wouldn't mind so much if you'd just shut up once in a while."

Elizabeta seemed a bit taken aback. "O-okay... I'll try not to talk as much if that's what you want..."

Gilbert nodded. "Good." He glanced around before continuing, "If you still want to talk to me by the end of the day, meet me in the back field. There's an old oak tree. That's where we'll meet. Don't tell anyone about it. Okay?"

"Okay." Elizabeta nodded. "Thanks for giving me a chance."

"Yeah, whatever. Also...don't tell anyone you saw me." Before Elizabeta could respond, Gilbert had hurried down the stairs and disappeared.

_**A/N:**_** Oh, poor, sweet, anti-social, awkward Gilbert. We'll be finding out more about him in chapters to come.**

**I'm sorry it's taken a little while for this chapter to be posted, but I've been in and out of the hospital because of my heart (I almost passed out today at school, the pain in my chest was so bad). On top of that, my exams start in a week, and my procedure will be sometime after that. A lot of stress! :/ Oh well. This chapter's up. I hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Who Knew (Pink)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**Guys, I'm alive! :P My first exam is tomorrow, so I wanted to get this up before then. Please enjoy!**

Elizabeta couldn't wait for the school day to be over. Sitting in her math class, she checked her watch for the eighth time that period. Her thoughts distracted her from the lesson, which was about trigonometry or something else she didn't care about. At least the teacher hadn't noticed her vacant gaze.

_If you still want to talk to me by the end of the day, meet me in the back field._ Those words rang through Elizabeta's mind. She had actually held a conversation, however short it was, with the boy no one spoke to. Not only that, he had offered to talk to her again. She felt almost honoured.

The bell rang much sooner than she expected. Not caring to hang around and chat with her classmates, Elizabeta bolted out of the room and down the stairs. It took her a moment to figure out how to get to the back field. Once she figured it out, she exited the school building and looked around for an old oak tree. The problem was, she didn't see one. She saw three. Before she could deduce which tree was the designated meeting spot, she heard a voice.

"So you decided to show up after all."

Elizabeta jumped and turned in the direction of the voice. She saw Gilbert Beilschmidt step out from behind one of the trees, his hood pulled up over his head, his hands in his pockets. Elizabeta nodded and said, "Yeah, of course I did. I was serious when I said I wanted to talk to you."

"Huh." Gilbert leaned against the tree. "What exactly is it you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, for starters..." Elizabeta took a breath before continuing. "I want to know why no one talks to you. Just to start things off."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed slightly. "I have no interest in people," he said bluntly. "They bore me. People don't talk to me because I don't talk to them. I don't want to talk to them. Why should I? No one ever does anything for me."

_He sounds so arrogant,_ Elizabeta thought. _How can people bore you? All you have to do is try to make conversation..._

"If it were entirely up to me, I wouldn't come to school at all," Gilbert continued. "I'd rather be alone."

"Then why talk to me if you claim you hate people?" Elizabeta questioned.

"Surprisingly, you interest me. Just a little, though. There's something about you that makes you seem..." Gilbert trailed off, thinking of what word to use. "_Sophisticated_. You don't seem like the other girls. Of course, I've only known you since this morning, but I think you're a good person." He shrugged and shook his head. "Whatever. You don't believe me."

Elizabeta's eyes widened slightly. Had this boy just said...he thought she was a good person? Was she hearing things?

She shook her head slightly and said in a soft voice, "Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"This might sound kind of insensitive, but..." Elizabeta ran her tongue over her lips as she tried to figure out how she wanted to word it. "What's up with your hair and eyes? I mean, I've never seen anyone with red eyes before..."

Gilbert stiffened. For quite some time, he didn't respond. He just stared at the ground. When he finally did speak, his voice was sharp and bitter. "Who the hell do you think you are, asking that kind of question?"

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Why the hell would you even ask something like that? Do you know how rude it is? Do you have no regard for other people's feelings?" With a huff, he pulled down his hood, revealing his snow-white hair. "Have you never seen an albino before?"

"Oh, um..." Elizabeta wasn't sure what to say. She decided to answer honestly. "N-no, I've never seen...an albino before." She felt so insensitive saying that.

"Well, now you have." Gilbert looked away. "Everyone's reaction is the same. I look different, so I'm treated differently. If I looked like everyone else, maybe I wouldn't be such a loner. Maybe I would have at least one friend." He ran a hand through his hair and glared at Elizabeta. "I thought that maybe-just _maybe_-I could trust you. But now I see that I was wrong."

Elizabeta held up her hands. "I'm so sorry, honest. I never meant to offend you in any way. I was just curious-"

"Shut up and leave me alone!" Gilbert pulled his hood back up to cover his hair and started to walk away.

"Wait! I-I'm really sorry!" Elizabeta cried.

But she received no reply as Gilbert picked up pace and hurried off the school field, turning a corner and disappearing from sight.

_**A/N:**_** I actually love trig. I hate math, but I love trig. Just a random fact.**

**And once again, Gilbert runs away. It seems to be a hobby of his, eh? ;)**

**This chapter evolved while I was writing it. Originally, it wasn't going to end on the note it did. But an idea popped into my head and I decided to go with it.**

**We'll learn why Gilbert is so sensitive about his albinism in the next chapter or so, and why he flipped out at Elizabeta. It'll all make sense soon.**


	4. Welcome To My Life (Simple Plan)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**This chapter is in two perspectives: the first in Elizabeta's, the second in Gilbert's. Gilbert's part will help us gain more insight on his actions.**

**Enjoy, my pretties!**

Elizabeta kept staring after Gilbert-of course by now he was long gone, but she hadn't quite processed that yet-until she was pulled from her daze by a buzzing in her skirt pocket. _My phone._ She pulled it out and saw that her mother was calling her. After a second or two of just staring at the screen, Elizabeta hit the "talk" button. "Hello?" she said.

"Elizabeta!" came her mother's voice from the other end of the line. "Where are you? I've been waiting in the car for fifteen minutes. Are you okay?"

As her mother spoke, Elizabeta deduced that school had ended about twenty minutes ago. She had left the building as soon as she could to talk to Gilbert, but their conversation hadn't lasted as long as she would've liked. _Yeah, that one's on me,_ she thought. Then how long had she been standing here alone?

"Elizabeta?"

Her mother's voice brought her back. After stuttering a little, Elizabeta said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be there soon."

She could sense her mother's relief. "All right, sweetie," Mrs. Héderváry said. "See you in a bit."

"See you." Elizabeta hung up and slipped her phone back into her pocket. She stared at the ground for a minute or two before heading around to the front of the school. There she saw the familiar black hatchback parked by the entrance.

When Elizabeta opened the front passenger's door and sat down, her mother immediately asked her several questions: "What took you so long? What were you doing? How was your day? Did you make any friends?" Mrs. Héderváry was an expert at posing questions.

Elizabeta sighed inwardly and shrugged. "I made some friends, sure," she mused. "They're pretty nice. But there's this one guy-"

"Ooh, a boy? Do you have a crush?" Mrs. Héderváry teased as she pulled out of the parking lot.

"Wh-what? No, it's nothing like that!" Elizabeta rolled her eyes. _Seriously, Mom..._ "This guy is in my homeroom class," she went on. "Apparently he doesn't talk to anyone, and he doesn't have any friends. His name's Gilbert, by the way."

"He sounds like he's just shy," Mrs. Héderváry said.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But I managed to catch him at lunch and talk to him a little. He said we could meet up again and talk after school in the back field. That's why I wasn't at the front when you got here. When we were talking, he was acting kind of weird, and then I said something and he just..." Elizabeta shrugged again. "He got angry, I guess."

"What did you say?"

"Well..." Elizabeta chewed on her bottom lip as she put her words together in her mind. "He has...white hair and red eyes. So I asked him about it. He didn't like that."

Mrs. Héderváry sighed. "Honey, you know better than that," she said. "How would you feel if you were in his position and someone asked you something like that?"

"I wasn't thinking, Mom. I've never seen someone like him before..."

"You mean an albino," Mrs. Héderváry corrected. "That doesn't matter. It's rude! How do you think you made him feel?"

"I get it, okay? I get it." Elizabeta looked out the window. "Is Adam home?" she asked, changing the subject.

"No, he's still at work."

Adam was her mother's boyfriend. Mrs. Héderváry had divorced Elizabeta's father when Elizabeta was eleven, and two years later had met Adam. He was nice enough, but Elizabeta missed her real father. However, once she and her mother moved three cities over, Elizabeta hadn't seen her father since the divorce.

The rest of the drive was silent. When the car finally pulled into the driveway of the house, Elizabeta jumped out before it had even stopped. She heard her mother call out to her-"Erzsi..."-but she ignored her and ran into the house.

Tossing her bag by the front door, Elizabeta dashed up the stairs and into her room. She slammed her door and kicked off her shoes before flopping onto her bed. Elizabeta stared at her ceiling, refusing to answer her mother when she called up to her. She ignored the question about what she wanted for dinner. She didn't even try to listen to the conversation that went on downstairs when Adam eventually came home.

Instead, she continued staring at the ceiling, her thoughts in a different universe than her body.

. . . .

_Crash!_

"Dammit! Who left this plate on the edge of the counter?"

Gilbert flinched when he heard the sound of a plate shattering, followed by the angry yell of his stepmother. He remembered using the plate to make a sandwich, but he didn't remember what he had done with it. Come to think of it, he'd probably left it on the edge of the counter. He was stupid enough to do that.

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door. "Gilbert? Are you okay?" It was the calm, even voice of his younger brother, Ludwig. Ludwig was a freshman at the same school as Gilbert, but he had a maturity beyond his years. The two had been very close when they were younger, but they had grown apart over the past few years. Gilbert knew it was his fault-since starting high school, he had become anti-social and wary of strangers. Due to his sudden withdrawal from most social aspects, the brothers hardly ever talked anymore. The few times they did, it was awkward for both of them.

Gilbert stared at the floor from where he was slumped against the wall. Even though he was in his room, he didn't feel _safe_ like he used to. He felt scared, but he wasn't quite sure why. He wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

"Gilbert? Come on, say something. I'm worried about you," Ludwig continued in a gentle voice. "We haven't talked in a while... I know you don't like talking to me, but I'm here if you want to."

Gilbert remained staying as quiet as possible. If he was lucky, maybe Ludwig would just leave him alone.

After a few minutes, he heard a dejected sigh and the sound of departing footsteps. Gilbert let out a sigh of relief.

Then he thought about the broken plate. That had been his fault. In fact, everything in this godforsaken house was his fault. When was the last time he'd done something right? When was the last time he'd felt good about himself?

His thoughts wandered to the new girl in his class, Elizabeta Héderváry. Yes, she was pretty, but she was also quite nosy and a bit rude. Why did she have to ask him about his hair and eyes? Hadn't she thought about his feelings?

_I can't help the fact that I'm different from everyone else... Right? No... It's my fault. Everything's my fault._

As he continued to sit on the cold hardwood floor, Gilbert began to cry.

_**A/N:**_** Erzsi is a pet name for Erzsébet, which is the Hungarian form of Elizabeta.**

**And now we've gotten (somewhat) into the mind of Gilbert Beilschmidt. There will definitely be more chapters in his POV because it's so much fun to write as him. We'll also find out more about his family situation.**

**Just as an aside, it makes me so happy to know that you guys are reading my stories. I really hope I'm keeping you entertained. I love you all-you're what inspires me to keep writing. Virtual hugs for all!**


	5. What Do You Want From Me (Adam Lambert)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**Again, a two-perspective chapter (though this one has three parts). And I'm going to include more Gilbert so we can get into his mind some more. As always, enjoy!**

_Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock..._

"Shut _up,_ you stupid clock..." Gilbert muttered. He had no idea why he had an old alarm clock in his room (_why can't I have a digital one like everyone else?_) and its constant ticking drove him insane every day. Of course, most things drove him insane... Day-to-day life was often too much for him... Wait, what had been bothering him? Oh, right, the clock...

He suddenly felt a dull pain in his left temple. Closing his eyes, Gilbert curled up on the floor and held his head in his hands. He wanted to sleep, but too many thoughts were running through his mind.

_Nothing is okay... Nothing... Why is this happening? What did I do?_

Had it already been seven years? It couldn't be... It felt like it had just happened yesterday. The memory was etched in his mind; it was something he would never forget. That was the day that everything changed. It was when he realized that everything in this family was his fault.

_It's my fault... I'm so sorry... All my fault... My fault... My..._

As he lay on his bedroom floor, he let out a scream of anguish.

. . . .

Dinner was extremely awkward. Elizabeta, not being in the mood to talk, stared at the table as she ate. Her mother was clearly annoyed with her, but didn't say anything and ate quietly. Adam had been home for a short time, but he received a call from his work and had to leave shortly before dinner. He had insisted that Elizabeta and her mother eat without him. And so the awkward dinner began.

Finally Mrs. Héderváry broke the silence. "What was wrong with you earlier? You weren't acting like yourself."

"Nothing's wrong with me," Elizabeta retorted. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Did something bad happen at school?"

"No, it's just... Well, yeah." Elizabeta shrugged. "I told you what I said to that boy in my class. I hate myself for that. I want to apologize..."

"You can apologize to him tomorrow at school," Mrs. Héderváry suggested.

"But what if he doesn't want to talk to me?"

Mrs. Héderváry offered a small smile. "Try. I'm sure he'll appreciate your apology."

"Okay. I'll try," Elizabeta said. "Um, may I be excused? I'm full."

"I suppose."

"Thanks." Standing up, Elizabeta took her plate to the kitchen. After clearing it and putting it in the dishwasher, she went up to her room.

Her room was still being organized, seeing as they'd only moved a few weeks before, but Elizabeta found it cozy and likable. The walls were a pale lavender, which went nicely with her gray and purple bedspread. The floor was a shiny hardwood. A small lamp sat on her bedside table, along with her makeup kit and jewelry. Boxes filled with other personal items were stacked up by the window.

Elizabeta took out her earrings and placed them on her table as she sat down on her bed. After just sitting for a few minutes, she picked up a nearby book-an old copy of _Lolita_-and started reading. However, her thoughts were too distracting for her to focus on the novel.

. . . .

After some time, Gilbert decided he was hungry, and made his way downstairs. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he entered the kitchen and started rifling through the cupboards in search of something to eat. Unfortunately, seeing as no one had gone shopping in a while, there wasn't a lot of food.

In the midst of his search, he heard voices coming from the living room. At first he didn't care and ignored them, but when he heard his name, he abandoned the food search and tiptoed out to the hall. He pressed himself against the wall outside the living room and listened.

"I don't see how you've been able to put up with Gilbert for all these years," he heard his stepmother say.

"He's a teenager." That was his father. "What more can I say?"

"He's a stubborn, disrespectful brat."

His father sighed. "These past few years have been very difficult for him. You're not really helping by constantly being on his back. Give him a break."

"I'm not going to 'give him a break'," his stepmother quipped. "He needs someone to stay on top of him. You know very well he's failing school. Do you want to have a son who will never amount to anything?"

Gilbert stiffened. _What did that bitch just say?_ Yes, he knew he was failing all of his classes. Yes, he knew he was rude to his stepmother. But who said she could run his life?

"Gilbert?"

Gilbert jumped when he heard his brother's voice. He'd been so caught up in eavesdropping that he hadn't even noticed Ludwig coming down the hall. Unsure of what to say, he simply blinked.

"What are you doing down here?" Ludwig asked. "Are you okay?"

"Um... I..." Gilbert stumbled over his words. In all honesty, he didn't want to talk to his brother. He didn't want to talk to anyone. "Leave me alone," he hissed.

Ludwig looked hurt. "Why? What did I do?"

"Just leave me alone... Please..." GIlbert tried to push past his brother to get back upstairs, but Ludwig caught his arm in an attempt to make him stay. However, Gilbert had other plans. He managed to pull his arm away before darting up the stairs.

Once in his room, Gilbert slammed the door and sank to the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out the shouts coming from downstairs. They were all mad at him. He was sure of it.

_Stop it... Leave me alone, please... Stop! Help me... Shut up...! Save me... Please... Mom... Help..._

Gilbert was losing his mind.

_**A/N:**_** Ooh, what happened seven years ago? It's a mystery! Don't worry, it will be revealed in time ;)**

**Don't ask why Elizabeta's reading **_**Lolita**_**. It was literally the first book that popped into my head.**

**Wait, what's that about Gilbert mentioning his mom at the end? It'll all come together in later chapters!**

**Also, everyone should look up Ancient Moon by Elliot del Borgo. It's a beautiful instrumental piece (which my band class played at our concert last year; I play the baritone). I find it really soothing to listen to.**


	6. Demons (Imagine Dragons)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**This chapter takes place the day after the events of the previous one.**

**Disclaimer for this chapter: Mentions of self-harm and suicide. Don't hate me for it.**

His room was a disaster.

In a blind rage, Gilbert had strewn his belongings everywhere, had ripped down his curtains, had knocked over his desk. He had torn up old tests, had snapped his pencils, had thrown his bag out of the window. Why? Why was he doing this?

He had no idea.

"Nothing's worth it," he muttered, pacing. "It's all my fault. I'm a horrible person. They all hate me."

He had no control over the thoughts running through his mind. He didn't realize it, but he was his own worst enemy. He was causing himself to deteriorate.

Gilbert made his way over to his overturned desk and rummaged through the drawers. "I know it's in here... Ah ha." His fingers closed around a thin, hard object. _A razor._ Something he'd had for years. Something that no one else knew about. It was his secret.

_I don't want anyone to ever know._

Then he laughed to himself. No one knew anything about him. So how could anyone found out?

He crouched on the floor, clutching the razor. He slowly rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a thin, pale arm covered with scars. Some of the scars were several years old; others were much newer. Each one told a story. But, of course, no one would ever know these stories. He had no one to tell.

With a trembling hand, Gilbert held the blade of the razor against his wrist. He barely flinched when the blade sliced through his skin. However, when he saw the crimson blood run down his arm, he bit his lip to keep himself from crying. Not from the pain, but from the fact that no one cared about him. No one loved him. No one was going to save him.

_But that's... That's just life, huh?_

Would it really be all that bad if he died? He'd come close to killing himself before-he remembered that one time he'd cut too deep and it took him ages to stop the bleeding-but he was scared of dying. He didn't know what he found so scary about it. Maybe it was because people can't come back from the dead. Maybe it was because he had no idea what happened after death. Was it just darkness? Was there really an afterlife?

Gilbert closed his eyes and shook his head. _Death happens all the time. You know that. You've seen it. So suck it up, you idiot._

With a sigh, he opened his eyes and gazed down at his bloodied arm. Strangely, he didn't feel any pain. He felt numb. Cold. In a daze. He thought he heard someone calling his name, someone knocking on his door, but he was probably just going crazy.

"Gilbert?"

Wait. Someone actually _was_ calling him... Someone was outside his room. _Shit... Why? What have I done this time?_

"Get up, you're going to be late for school. Your brother's already left. Wake up, you lazy ass."

His stepmother. That cruel, vile woman. All she ever did was bitch at him because he was lazy and anti-social. He was also pretty rude to her. Whatever. She deserved it.

"Are you listening to me? Get up!"

"I'm not going to school today!" Gilbert was surprised when he heard his voice. He hadn't meant to say anything.

"Why not?"

"I don't feel like it. Haven't you forgotten that I'm failing?" He had no control over his mouth. The words just kept coming. "You said it yourself last night."

There was a pause, and Gilbert hoped his stepmom had left. But then her voice came again: "Don't talk back to me. Get your ass out here and go to school. Don't make me kick you out."

"You have no right to do that. You can't control me." Slowly, Gilbert stood up. "You're not my real mother." He grabbed his hoodie, ignoring his bleeding arm for now, and pulled it on (he was still wearing his uniform from the day before). He kept the razor in his hand. "You're just a bitch who thinks you know everything."

"You little... You know full well that your mother was nothing but an unstable piece of shit. Why else would she have-"

"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut _up!_ Do not talk about her like that!" Gilbert shouted. He was furious. "She was the only person on this fucking planet who truly cared about me! I'm sure of it! She loved me... She really did!"

"Don't raise your voice at me, young man!" The doorknob rattled. That bitch was trying to get in.

Gilbert's hand tightened around the razor. Taking a breath, he walked over to the door and flung it open. Seeing his stepmother standing there, he lifted the razor and swung it at her. _What the hell am I doing?_ The blade grazed the bitch's cheek, and she stepped back, but by the time she realized what had happened Gilbert was out of the house.

He ran down the street, ignoring the raindrops splashing his face. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he had to escape.

_**A/N:**_** Holy shit, this chapter made me sad. I don't cry very often (nor do I like crying), but I was in tears writing this. Damn...**

**I am very passionate about mental health research and support. Mental illness runs in my family: my mom is bipolar (she's also abusive; I'm glad I don't live with her anymore), and I have depression and anxiety. It makes me so sad when people trivialize any sort of mental health issue. It is a real problem in our society. Those who suffer are not crazy. They are not looking for attention. They are simply afflicted with something they can't help.**

**On that note, if you feel depressed, PLEASE find help. The pain and suffering will get better, I promise. I'm speaking from experience. These past few years I've struggled with my mental state and came very close to ending everything last April. Luckily for me, some family members encouraged me to seek counseling. Now, nine months later, I'm glad I got help when I did. I still struggle with depression, but it's not as bad now. You have a support system out there. Take advantage of it. If you ever need to talk, I'm here. I don't judge and I'll try my hardest to give advice. You are loved. You are a wonderful person. You'll do something great one day. You have your whole life ahead of you. You are worth it.**


	7. How to Save a Life (The Fray)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**That last chapter... Eek. It messed with my soul. But the drama continues!**

Elizabeta yawned as she pulled her books from her bag and set them on her desk. She hadn't slept at all the night before, and she was tired as hell. On top of that, she had started her cycle that morning. So today was destined to be terrible.

"Hey, you okay?"

She jumped when she heard a voice beside her. Turning to her left, Elizabeta saw the concerned green eyes of Antonio looking at her. Despite the fact that this was only her second day of knowing him, she felt that she could trust him.

With a nod, Elizabeta smiled slightly and replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all."

Antonio looked relieved. "That's good," he said. "I'd hate it if something was wrong."

"What do you mean by that?" Elizabeta squinted.

"Hm? O-oh, I, uh..." Antonio looked flustered. "I-I didn't mean anything by-"

He was cut off by Mr. Vargas saying, "Okay, class is starting. I'll take roll. Natalya Arlovskaya?"

"Here."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

Silence. That was when Elizabeta realized that the mysterious white-haired boy wasn't in class. She wondered why that was.

"All right, one absent," Mr. Vargas said. "Lukas Bondevik?"

"Here, sir."

"Laura Dupont-"

All of a sudden, the door burst open. Mr. Vargas, along with the students who had been chatting with each other, fell silent and turned to see who had come in.

Gilbert Beilschmidt was standing in the doorway, his face flushed, his hair messy. He was panting and clutching his right wrist.

Laura Dupont, who sat beside the door, suddenly let out a shriek. She was soon joined by Natalya Arlovskaya, and several other students cried, "Whaaaat?" Elizabeta too strained to see what had frightened Laura. When she saw, her eyes widened.

Gilbert's right hand was covered in something red. It seemed to be coming from somewhere under his sleeve. Blood. It was blood. But... How had it gotten there?

Mr. Vargas seemed to notice the blood shortly after Elizabeta had, and he said in a calm (well, as calm as a teacher could be when a student is bleeding) voice, "Are you all right, Gilbert? Do you need to see the nurse?"

At first it looked like Gilbert hadn't heard Mr. Vargas. Then he stiffly shook his head and glanced around the room. His gaze settled on the back of the room, and though his eyes seemed out of focus, Elizabeta felt as though he was staring right at her.

Then he stepped back, bumping into the door. He looked stunned, but then he turned and ran out of the room. The sound of his footsteps faded as he darted down the hall.

Mr. Vargas opened his mouth as if to say something before he shook his head and looked at his students. Laura was hyperventilating, Antonio looked shocked, and Elizabeta was still gazing at the door. Two students nearby were whispering softly to each other. The question hung in the air: What had just happened?

Elizabeta stood, raising her hand. "Sir? May I go look for him?"

"Um..." Mr. Vargas nodded slowly and waved his hand toward the door. "Yeah. Go ahead." Then he sank into his chair.

"Thank you, sir." Elizabeta slowly walked out of the classroom. Once she was in the hall, she took a minute to get her bearings, decided that Gilbert would most likely be in that back stairwell, and headed there. Her shoes were the only sound in the hallway.

As she walked, she wondered why Gilbert had been bleeding. What the hell had happened? If he was injured, why didn't he get help? She barely knew him, but she was still worried about him.

When she got to the stairwell and pushed the door open, Elizabeta was immediately greeted by the soft sound of someone crying. She tried to be as quiet as possible as she descended the stairs to the landing. When she saw Gilbert huddled in the corner of the landing, she was struck with the overwhelming need to cry as well.

Gilbert was rocking back and forth, still clutching his wrist. Blood had soaked through his sleeve, and some had splattered on the floor around him. Even from her distance, Elizabeta could see tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Uh, hey," Elizabeta said softly. She wanted to remain as calm and gentle as possible; who knew if he would lash out?

GIlbert flinched and looked up. Elizabeta thought she saw a hint of fear flash through his eyes before he looked down again. "Wh-what do you want?" he muttered, wiping his face with his left sleeve.

"You're hurt." Elizabeta pointed to his wrist. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Go away."

Elizabeta sighed. "I want to help you," she said. Her face softened into a small smile. "Please let me help you?"

There was a long silence. Finally Gilbert nodded-it was so faint Elizabeta almost didn't notice it-and mumbled, "Yeah, sure."

_Score one for me._ "Thanks." Elizabeta slowly made her way over to Gilbert and sat down beside him, tucking her legs under her skirt. Right away, she said, "Show me your arm."

"H-huh?" Gilbert turned his face toward her, a look of confusion and horror on his face. "N-no..."

"You said you'll let me help you," Elizabeta reminded.

"I guess I did, didn't I?" Though hesitant at first, Gilbert eventually held out his arm for Elizabeta to inspect.

Elizabeta, wanting to be as gentle as she could, slowly rolled up Gilbert's sleeve, careful not to hurt him. She let out an audible gasp when she saw the dozens of scars littering his forearm. Those scars, along with the amount of blood, made her feel sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry you have to see this," Gilbert whispered. "I'm sure you weren't expecting it. No one's... No one's ever seen them before."

"Why not? This is dangerous." Elizabeta had opened her eyes again and was gazing intently at Gilbert. "Do you know what would happen if you lost too much blood? How would your family feel? How would your friends feel?"

"I have no friends. And my family... Well, let's just say that the only person who ever cared about me is gone. So it wouldn't really matter if I died."

"Don't say that! I'm sure someone would care." Elizabeta looked down. "You don't understand. Life is worth living. Trust me."

Gilbert shook his head. "I don't trust anyone. I-I'm scared to trust. One way or another, you get betrayed," he said.

"That's not always true. But while we're on the subject..." Elizabeta took a deep breath before she continued. "What's your family life like? I'm sorry if it's offensive."

"Oh, no, it's fine," Gilbert said. He chewed his lip. "My family sucks, if I'm being totally honest with you. My little brother's a huge overachiever, my dad's a lazy piece of shit who doesn't give a flying fuck about me, and my stepmom's nothing but a huge bitch. My brother and I used to be close, but..." He shrugged. "We aren't anymore."

Elizabeta nodded as he spoke. Clearly his relationships with his family members really was awful. _Wait... He's missing someone... He didn't mention..._

"Gilbert," she began, "what about your mom?"

_**A/N:**_** And once again, Antonio tries (and fails) to be flirty. What would you expect? He's Spanish ;)**

**Aaand... Dun-dun-dun... In the next chapter we will learn about the events of seven years ago! The entire story was inspired by the premise for Chapter 8... And it'll be a damn dramatic one, too! :D**


	8. Please Don't Leave Me (Pink)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**And now we'll learn what happened seven years ago! Yay! (Not really) This chapter is basically what first came into my head as an idea. I was going to introduce it earlier, but I decided it would be better to build up more suspense and drama (and see just how much Gilbert would devolve...).**

**Also more mentions of suicide. **_**Sorry sorry sorry.**_** But it's important to the plot.**

**So. Chapter 8. Please enjoy!**

_September, seven years earlier_

"School's awful," Gilbert groaned. "It's like prison, but worse!" It was a relatively sunny Tuesday in early September, and the first day of school had just let out. Naturally, school was every nine-year-old's worst nightmare. Who would want to spend six hours stuck at a desk learning stuff that wasn't even important? What good would it do in the future? At least that was Gilbert's view on things.

Ludwig, however, thought differently. "I think school's important," he said. "It's where you get smarter." Clearly Ludwig's seven-year-old brain hadn't yet wrapped around the horror that was school. "It's fun. We see our friends there."

"I'm too awesome to have friends," Gilbert remarked. Despite the fact that he acted as though he loved being alone, he secretly longed to have just one close friend. But he was too shy to venture out and talk to his classmates. So he put on a show, claiming that friends were overrated. "I like being alone. I'm the best company I could ask for."

"I think you should try and make friends. You seem pretty lonely," Ludwig noted.

"Don't tell me what to do," Gilbert snapped as he made his way up the driveway. The family car wasn't there, which meant that their father was still at work. Their mother was most likely home, seeing as she didn't work and she'd just gone shopping the other day.

Once the two boys were inside the house, Ludwig immediately said, "I want a snack." He looked at his brother expectantly.

"Get your own snack." Gilbert kicked off his shoes and threw his bag into the family room.

"I can't reach the cupboards!" Ludwig exclaimed. "You're my big brother. You're supposed to help me."

GIlbert rolled his eyes. "I'm not supposed to do anything. Ask Mom to make you something." That was when he realized that their mom hadn't come to greet them yet. That was definitely out of the ordinary. "Mom?" he called out.

There was no response.

"Mom?" he repeated, this time a bit louder.

Still nothing.

Gilbert grew suspicious. _Where could Mom be?_ He looked at the front door and saw that her shoes and jacket were still there, so she hadn't gone out. She wasn't in the family room, so maybe she was upstairs? Ignoring Ludwig, who was trying to climb onto the counter to get a snack, Gilbert darted up the stairs to continue searching.

The second floor was eerily quiet. It also seemed much darker than normal. Gilbert looked down the hall to where his parents' bedroom was. "Mom? Are you in there?" he asked as he made his way toward the room. The door was slightly ajar, and once he was outside the room, he pushed the door open all the way.

The room was empty, but Gilbert felt some kind of strange presence. "Mom...?" He noticed a shadow coming from the closet. "Mom, is that you?" He cautiously approached the closet and tugged the door open. Upon peering inside, all colour drained from his face.

His mother was hanging from the rod in the closet, a belt wrapped around her thin throat. She had always been pretty, but now her face was pale blue from lack of oxygen, and her tongue protuded through her lips. Her eyes gazed vacantly at the floor. When the door had opened, her body had been gently swinging back and forth. Now it was still.

"What... What is this...?" Gilbert sank to his knees, trembling. Then, unsure of what else to do, he screamed.

There was a clatter from downstairs, and he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. "Are you okay?" Ludwig called. He was approaching the bedroom.

_I can't let him see..._ "Ludwig, I need you to listen to me," Gilbert said, trying not to let his voice shake. "Don't come in here. Go back downstairs. Call Dad and an ambulance. After you've done that, stay in the family room. Okay?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Just do it! Now!"

Ludwig yelped, but soon his footsteps faded away. Gilbert could hear him dialing a number on the phone.

Gilbert took a shaky breath and looked back at his mother's body. He didn't like being in its presence, but he felt as though he was rooted to the spot. Suddenly he was hit with a wave of nausea, and he vomited to his side.

When his father came home, Gilbert hadn't moved. The boy literally had to be dragged out of the room, as he was in too much shock to leave the room on his own accord. He remained in a daze for the rest of the evening, ignoring the paramedics and police officers who kept coming in and out of the house.

He only snapped out of it when he heard his father talking to one of the officers: "I have no idea what possessed her to do that. I mean, I know she was on medication, but I didn't think it was that bad. Everyone has their ups and downs, right? Experiencing a range of emotions is just life. It's kind of a cowardly move to take the easy way out."

"You don't seem very upset over the fact that your wife is dead, sir," the officer noted.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting her to kill herself."

"What do you mean by that, sir?"

"She was fine when we first met up until we got married. But then when our first son was born, something changed. She was different. She kept muttering, 'It's not my fault, it's not my fault', day in and day out. I remember one time when she looked at me and said, 'Why is he different from everyone else? What did I do?' I didn't know how to respond, so I just told her it wasn't a big deal. But I know how much it bothered her having an albino for a kid. They're not like normal kids. They can't stay out in the sun for too long. Their eyes are more sensitive. They're more prone to bullying." His father sighed. "She loved him because he was her kid, but she didn't like the fact that he's different."

"Sir, you're aware that albinism is transferred genetically, right?" the officer asked. "That means that either you or your wife carry that gene."

His father scoffed. "Well, it isn't me! I'm normal. The rest of my family is normal. It's just that damn kid. This is all his fault."

Gilbert looked down. His father had clearly forgotten that he was sitting right there. He had heard everything. He didn't want to believe any of it. _But... What if he's right? What if Mom killed herself because of... Because of me? I pushed her to the edge... This has to be my fault... I'm so sorry..._

He didn't sleep that night.

_**A/N:**_** Ugh, I hate Gilbert's dad. But I was trying to make him as asshole-ish as possible, because you're supposed to hate him!**

**Soundtrack for writing this: Tooi Hi No Kizuato (Suzuka), Here With You (Mirai Nikki), Tsuisou (Fullmetal Alchemist), Man of the World (Naruto Shippuden), Continued Story (Code Geass), SHI-KI (Shiki), Krone (Guilty Crown), and Vogel im Kafig (Attack on Titan). All beautiful, calming anime soundtracks.**


	9. Human (Christina Perri)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**We're back to the present day for this chapter. Gilbert and Elizabeta will be getting closer, too.**

**FYI, the last chapter was Gilbert telling Elizabeta what had happened. Just in case you're confused.**

**Please enjoy!**

Gilbert fell silent and looked down, tugging at a loose piece of thread on his hoodie's sleeve. He seemed to be waiting for Elizabeta's reaction.

Elizabeta was still trying to process what she had just been told. When she spoke, her voice was shaking slightly. "That's... That's horrible. Why would your father blame you for your mother's suicide?"

"I guess he didn't want to shoulder the guilt," Gilbert said, shrugging. "But I did some research. Albinism runs on my father's side of the family. But I'm not sure if he knows that."

"Why do you still live in that house?" Elizabeta asked. "It's not doing you any good."

"I've run away before. But the cops always manage to pick me up and take me back. No matter how many times I explain the whole situation, no matter who it is, they never listen. They never believe me." He glanced at Elizabeta. "You're really the only one who's ever sat down and listened."

"Really?"

Gilbert nodded. "It's almost as if you care."

"I do care," Elizabeta said gently. She stood up, holding out her hand. "Now let's get that arm of yours cleaned up."

"Oh. Okay." Gilbert took Elizabeta's hand and stood. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem. I'm just glad you're accepting my help." Elizabeta gingerly pulled Gilbert into a hug. She knew he probably didn't want her hugging him, but she didn't care too much. _This poor guy's been through so much. He just needs to know I'm here for him._

Much to her surprise, Gilbert didn't resist her hug. In fact, he actually hugged her back. Elizabeta thought she heard him whisper, "Thank you," but it was so faint that she couldn't confirm if he had truly said anything.

After a minute or two, the hug ended. Neither knew what to say, so they were silent for some time before Elizabeta said, "Okay, _now_ let's clean your arm." She didn't wait for a response and instead led Gilbert to the washroom. Gilbert only resisted when he realized she was taking him to the girls' washroom. "D-don't take me in there!" he cried.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "It's not a big deal. You won't see anything. I'll just be washing your arm," she said as she opened the washroom door and pushed him in.

Two first-year girls were standing by the mirror fixing their makeup. When they saw Gilbert, they screamed.

Elizabeta walked into the washroom behind Gilbert. She looked at the girls and hissed, "Get out now."

The girls didn't need to be told twice. They abandoned their post at the mirror and hurried out.

Elizabeta got some paper towels and held them under the water from the sink to get them damp. Then she went over to Gilbert. "Arm, please."

Gilbert obediently held out his arm and looked at Elizabeta.

After squeezing excess water from the paper towels, Elizabeta dabbed at Gilbert's wrist and started wiping off the blood. Gilbert flinched slightly when she applied a little too much pressure, but he stayed quiet.

"I don't think you'll need stiches," Elizabeta said. "You're lucky. But I do want to find some disinfectant."

"Why?"

"So you don't get an infection, dummy." Elizabeta immediately regretted her words. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you that."

"It doesn't matter. I've been called a lot worse," Gilbert admitted. "I'm used to it."

Elizabeta kept her mouth shut as she continued cleaning Gilbert's arm. _I really have to watch what I say around him. I don't want to offend him._ Then, without thinking, she said, "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

"No. I was just going to wander around town or break in here after school and sleep in a classroom."

Elizabeta couldn't tell whether or not he was joking, but she suggested, "If you want, you can stay over at my place. I'm sure my mom won't mind."

Gilbert shook his head. "No, that's okay," he said. "I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"You wouldn't be a bother. Honest," Elizabeta said with a smile. "My mom's super nice. I think she'd be happy to know I'm being hospitable. She'll say that she raised me right!"

"You...live with your mom?"

"Yeah, why do you ask? Oh..." It was then that Elizabeta remembered that he didn't have a mother. _How insensitive can I be? You idiot!_

"Do you really think she'd let me stay with you? Because honesty I don't have anywhere to go." Gilbert sounded hopeful.

Elizabeta beamed. "Of course. She'll be happy to let you in. I promise."

_**A/N:**_** Sorry that this one's so short. I promise that the next one will be longer, though!**

**Guys, thanks so much for so many views! It makes me super happy to know that this is actually pretty popular. I love you all.**


	10. Breakaway (Kelly Clarkson)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun (it's starting to show, guys!)<strong>

**Thanks for the kind reviews! As always, please enjoy!**

"My mom's really nice. She'll make sure you feel right at home. And she makes really good food." Elizabeta and Gilbert were standing in front of the school, waiting for Elizabeta's mother to come and pick them up. Naturally, Elizabeta was describing her family life.

Gilbert stayed quiet while she spoke. He was amazed that she was so happy at home. He couldn't remember the last time he and his family had been happy.

"We don't have a guest room, so you'll have to stay in the living room," Elizabeta went on. "You shouldn't mind too much, though. Our couch is really comfy."

Offering a small smile, Gilbert said, "That's good. And I can't wait to meet your mother."

"She'll be happy to meet you, too," Elizabeta replied. Then she pointed and said, "That's her car. Don't worry, I already texted her. She knows you're coming home with us."

Mrs. Héderváry's car pulled up to the curb a minute later. Elizabeta opened the front passenger door and jumped in. She looked at Gilbert. "You sit in the back." Then she closed her door.

Gilbert hesitantly opened the back door to the car and got in. He didn't say a word when the car pulled away from the school.

"So Mom, this is Gilbert," Elizabeta said. "He's the one I was telling you about." She turned in her seat to look at Gilbert. "Say hi."

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Héderváry," Gilbert said slowly. "I've heard a lot about you."

"All good stuff, I imagine?" Mrs. Héderváry laughed.

"Um, yeah. Elizabeta told me that you're really nice."

With a smile, Mrs. Héderváry said, "I hope she's right about that. When she texted me and asked if you could stay with us, I couldn't refuse. I'm glad that she was considerate enough to offer you a place to stay for the time being."

"You raised me right, Mom." Elizabeta beamed. "By the way, what are we having for dinner tonight?"

"Either chicken paprikas or goulash. Whatever you'd like."

"Ooh, chicken paprikas. You make the best," Elizabeta gushed. "It's so good. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it!"

"I'll start making it when we get home," Mrs. Héderváry said. "You're not allergic to anything, are you, Gilbert?"

Gilbert shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Have you ever had chicken paprikas before?"

"No. I've heard of it, though. What is it?" Gilbert asked.

"It's stew with chicken and paprika," Mrs. Héderváry explained. "It's an old dish from Hungary. The recipe's been in our family for years."

"It's amazing," Elizabeta added.

"It sounds good," Gilbert said softly. "I can't wait to try it."

Before long, the car pulled into the driveway of the Héderváry house. Elizabeta got out of the car and waited for Gilbert, who thanked Mrs. Héderváry and got out of the car as well. Elizabeta took Gilbert's hand and led him inside to show him around. Mrs. Héderváry followed shortly after.

"So this is our house!" Elizabeta said. "Kitchen's there, living room's there, and the bathroom's down the hall to the left." She happily dragged Gilbert upstairs. "My room's here. My mom's is over there. Our other bathroom's in between our two rooms. I know you probably won't be coming up here too often, but I still want you to know what it's like. Any-"

Elizabeta stopped talking when Gilbert suddenly hugged her. "Thank you so much," he said. "If it weren't for you, I don't know what I'd be doing."

"I just didn't want you to be alone," Elizabeta replied. "Even if you didn't agree to stay here, I knew that at least I tried."

"You're the only one who's ever made an effort. From the moment I first met you, I knew you were different from everyone else. In a good way. You don't have the same attitude like the other kids do. You're kinder, more considerate... Sure, I thought you were really annoying at first, but now I see that you're actually really nice." Gilbert looked down. "That's my way of saying thank you."

Elizabeta smiled. "Thank _you_ for letting me into your life. After all you've been through, you need someone who will listen and give you advice," she said. "When I was small, I hated seeing people who were upset, and I told myself that one day I would help someone. And here I am helping you."

"You're a good person, Elizabeta. Possibly one of the best people I've ever known. Your mother's also a good person, the way she's taking in some depressed loser kid she'd never met."

"Don't call yourself that," Elizabeta sighed. "You're a good person, too. Trust me. Just like everyone else, you're worth something." She gently touched Gilbert's cheek, smiling warmly. "Do you believe me?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, I believe you."

"Good," Elizabeta said. "Now come on, dinner will be ready soon." Once again taking Gilbert's hand, she led him downstairs and into the dining room. "You sit down, I'll set the table and help my mom bring the food out."

"I can help," Gilbert offered. "I don't want to seem lazy."

"You're our guest. Sit." Elizabeta left him alone and went into the kitchen.

After standing awkwardly for a minute or so, Gilbert sat in the closest chair and waited. Soon Elizabeta came out with two plates of food and cutlery. She set one plate in front of Gilbert and took her place beside him. A few minutes later, Mrs. Héderváry entered the room and sat across from Elizabeta. She laughed slightly when she saw the way Gilbert was staring at the food before him. "Go ahead, Gilbert," she said.

There was a slight pause, and then Gilbert began shoving food into his mouth as though his life depended on it. Both Elizabeta and her mother watched him curiously for a few seconds before exchanging a glance of mild confusion. They both knew what the other was thinking: _When was the last time he ate something?_

Before long, Gilbert had finished his entire meal and leaned back in his chair. He didn't seem to notice the strange looks he was getting and said, "That was really good."

"I'm...glad you liked it," Mrs. Héderváry said. "Would you like some more?"

Gilbert nodded quickly. "Yes, please."

Elizabeta passed her plate to Gilbert. "Here," she said. "I'm full."

"Thanks." Within a minute, the plate was empty.

"Were you that hungry, Gilbert?" Mrs. Héderváry asked.

"Yeah... I haven't had anything to eat for a couple days, I think," Gilbert said.

"Why not?"

Gilbert shrugged. "There's never a lot of food at my place," he explained. "And when there is, I'm not really supposed to eat it."

Mrs. Héderváry's expression changed as she inquired, "Why aren't you supposed to eat it?"

"It's my stepmother's rule. She hates me. She always tells me that I'm nothing but a waste of space, a piece of shit. According to her, only people who are worth something are allowed to eat. So I always have to sneak food when she's not around."

"That's terrible," Mrs. Héderváry said.

"I'm used to it," Gilbert replied. "But thank you very much for making this wonderful food."

"You're welcome. Would you like anything else?"

"No, thanks." Gilbert stood up. "May I be excused? I'm kind of tired."

Mrs. Héderváry nodded. "Of course."

With an awkward smile and a nod, Gilbert quickly left the room. Once he was out of earshot, Mrs. Héderváry looked at Elizabeta and whispered, "You never told me what he's been through."

"I wasn't going to say anything in front of him!" Elizabeta hissed. "He's been through hell. His mom killed herself when he was nine and his father blamed him. Plus his stepmom's a huge bitch and he has no friends because he's albino. I'm literally the only kid at that whole school who's ever talked to him." She sighed. "Now do you understand? He's just a poor lonely kid who needs a friend."

"And that's why you offered him a place to stay."

"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me, I had a long day at school and I'm going to my room." Elizabeta jumped to her feet and left the dining room, hurrying up the stairs.

. . . .

Gilbert couldn't sleep. The unfamiliar living room was dark and scary to him. On top of that, the only clothes he had was his uniform that he'd been wearing for two days straight. _I really need more clothes._ He was so grateful that Elizabeta had offered to let him stay with her. She had literally saved his life. _I was going to end everything tonight. I had everything planned out. And then...she was kind enough to find me, to listen to me, to take me in... She cares. She really does care._

He sat up and looked around. It had to be sometime past midnight. He decided that, because he was also pretty lonely, he would go upstairs and find Elizabeta. Maybe she was having trouble sleeping too and would want to talk to him. Yes, that was a brilliant idea.

Getting up from the couch, Gilbert felt his way to the stairs, trying not to trip over anything and break his face. He finally found the stairs and scampered up to the second floor, trying to remember which room was Elizabeta's. He decided it was the one that had a sign reading "Elizabeta" in fancy letters on the door. The door was open slightly, so he approached it and quietly entered the room.

Elizabeta was sleeping, her gentle breathing the only sound in the room. Gilbert walked over to her bed and stared at her. He felt a bit creepy watching her sleep, but he was lonely. She would understand.

Or maybe not. Elizabeta's eyes fluttered open. When she noticed Gilbert standing over her, she let out a shriek and jumped up. "Wh-what the hell are you doing?"

"I was lonely... I thought maybe you were awake and we could talk," Gilbert said. He wasn't sure whether or not he should mention that her nightgown was falling off her shoulder.

Elizabeta seemed to notice what her nightgown was doing and quickly adjusted it. "I didn't say you could come into my room," she exclaimed. "Go back downstairs."

"But I'm lonely." Gilbert tried to put on his best pouty face. "Let me sleep here tonight. Please?"

Elizabeta glared. Then she said, "Fine. But you're sleeping on the floor. And you're not allowed to touch me."

"Why would I touch-" Gilbert was cut off by Elizabeta throwing a pillow at his face. "What's this for?"

"So you're at least a little comfortable. Good night." With that, Elizabeta turned onto her other side and fell silent.

Gilbert grinned to himself. _She does care. Sort of._ With that thought in mind, he lay down on the floor and put the pillow under his head. He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

_**A/N:**_** At the time I posted this chapter, this story had 523 views. Guys, that makes me feel so happy. I never expected that. I want to hug you all!**

**Chicken paprikas (Hungarian: paprik****ás csirke) is a very popular Hungarian dish. My aunt was born in Hungary and makes this all the time; it's delicious! It's a stew made with paprika and often served with nokedli, which are boiled egg noodles similar to spätzle. If you ever get the chance, you have to try it. It's so worth it.**


	11. Because of You (Kelly Clarkson)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**I meant to have this chapter up last night, but my computer's internet was being fussy and kept kicking me off every five minutes. However, I was able to check reviews on my phone, and I got a kind review from a Guest giving me suggestions and stuff. So I revised this chapter (for the 10th time in two days) to work in some of what they said. It makes me so happy to get reviews, and I try my hardest to work in suggestions. It helps to make me a better writer. Thank you, everyone, for reading. I hope you keep enjoying.**

**(And Guest, if you're reading this, you didn't come across as bossy. You took the time to offer how I could improve the plot, and I really appreciate that :) )**

**Also, there's a little bit of humour in the beginning because I know how dark the story's been (and will continue to be), so I thought we needed some mood-lightening.**

Elizabeta had a strange night. First she'd been unable to fall asleep. Then she had the feeling that someone had come into her room in the middle of the night. She'd been groggy at the time, so she wasn't really sure if it had actually happened or if it was just her imagination.

Her alarm went off at that exact moment and nearly gave her a heart attack. With a groan, she rolled over and turned it off. Then she noticed the pillow on the floor. "How the hell did that get there?" she mumbled. Within a few minutes, the events of the previous night came back to her.

_That's right, Gilbert snuck in here and demanded to sleep here. I gave him the pillow and went back to sleep. But wait, where is he now?_

Most likely he was stealing food from the kitchen. Whatever. He was staying here, so he could basically do what he wanted.

Elizabeta got up and went to her closet to get her uniform. She placed it on her bed and slipped out of her nightgown. "Now where did I put my bra?" She wandered around her room for some time before she heard a choked noise by her door. She froze. _Crap, I left it open._ Slowly, she turned to face the intruder.

Gilbert was standing in the doorway, holding a piece of toast in his hand. His face was bright red, and his eyes were locked on her chest.

Elizabeta was unsure of what to do, so she kept standing there. _Thank God I'm at least wearing underwear._ Then she came out of her daze and snapped, "Get out!"

Gilbert, however, remained unmoving. He just blinked.

_Goddammit._ Elizabeta covered her chest with one arm and marched over to the door. "Out!" Before Gilbert could respond, she slammed the door in his face.

"Ow!" Gilbert cried from the other side of the door. "That was my nose!"

"You're a pervert!" Elizabeta shouted. "Why were you just standing there?"

"I was coming to see if you were awake! I didn't know you were going to be naked!"

"Ugh! Stop talking!" Elizabeta quickly managed to get dressed and threw her door open. "Mention this to no one."

Gilbert scoffed. "Hey, I don't talk to anyone but you," he said. "No one will ever know."

"Good." After smoothing her skirt, Elizabeta snatched the toast from Gilbert's hand and took a bite, ignoring his protests. "It's burnt," she noted.

"Yeah, well, I haven't had much experience with toasters in my life," Gilbert said sarcastically.

Again Elizabeta couldn't tell if he was joking. She shrugged and finished the toast before saying, "Is that uniform the only thing you ever wear? It's filthy!"

"That's because I've worn it for... I think this is the third day," Gilbert remarked. "I don't have a lot of other clothes. The stuff that I do have is back at that hell of a house where I used to live."

Elizabeta sighed. "At least promise me you'll wash it after school today."

"Yeah, I don't really know how to use a washing ma-"

"Then I'll wash it for you!" Elizabeta was slightly exasperated. This kid had no life skills, no social skills, nothing. _How the hell will he make it as an adult? He will make it to adulthood, right? Yes, he has to. I'll make sure of it._

"Hey, you know we're going to be late for school, right?" Gilbert pointed out. "Just saying."

"Shit! We can't be late! Mom! Start the car!" Elizabeta flew down the stairs. "Come on, Gilbert!" After a minute, Gilbert reluctantly followed her.

. . . .

They arrived at school and managed to make it into their classroom just before the bell rang. As they made their way to their seats, they failed to notice the strange looks they were getting from the other students.

"Ah, thank you for joining us today, you two," Mr. Vargas said. "You made it just in time."

Elizabeta smiled. "We didn't want to be late, sir!" That was when she realized that some of the students were looking at her strangely. Laura Dupont nudged Natalya Arlovskaya and whispered something to her, pointing at Elizabeta and Gilbert. Natalya gasped and glanced in Elizabeta's direction. Then she whispered something back to Laura.

_What are they talking about?_ Elizabeta thought. She watched as Laura pulled out her phone and shot off a text. Almost immediately, several phones went off, and their owners checked their messages. The air in the room suddenly felt very heavy, though Elizabeta might have been the only one to feel this. She glanced back at Gilbert.

Gilbert was surveying the room uneasily. When his eyes met Elizabeta's, he mouthed, _Get over here._

Elizabeta glanced over at Mr. Vargas, who was preoccupied with silently taking attendance. Elizabeta got up from her seat and went over to Gilbert's desk. "What is it?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"You know what that text was about, right?"

"You mean the one Laura just sent?" Elizabeta shook her head. "No, I don't know."

"This room is filled with people who gossip and spread rumours," Gilbert said. "I guarantee you that text was about us."

Elizabeta frowned. "Us? Why?" she asked. "What have we done?"

"We were late and we both look like crap. Well, I look crappier than you. You look pretty. No, scratch that." Gilbert let out a long sigh. "Point is, we came in together. Most of them saw us go home together last night. I'm pretty sure they think that we, uh..."

Before he could go on, there was a knock on the door. Gilbert and Elizabeta looked up.

An office attendant was standing by the door. "Mr. Vargas, is there a Gilbert Beilschmidt here?" she asked.

Mr. Vargas nodded and replied, "Yes, he is." He looked to the back of the room. "Gilbert, someone's here for you."

A couple students started laughing quietly. "Bet he's finally getting expelled," one said. "No, he's definitely getting sent to juvie," another joked.

Elizabeta glanced at Gilbert, who stood up and glared at the other students. But, of course, they weren't looking at him. They were just laughing at him. He turned to Elizabeta and said, "If I'm not back in ten minutes, ask to be excused and come find me. Okay?"

"Okay." Elizabeta nodded. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Slowly, Gilbert made his way to the front of the room. He gave Elizabeta a final, slighty frightened glance as he was led out of the class.

_Please be okay, Gilbert_, Elizabeta thought as she went back to her own desk. _I hope you're not in trouble for anything._

. . . .

Gilbert had no idea what to expect when he was brought to the office. Right away he saw his younger brother sitting in one of the chairs across from the front desk. Ludwig looked up when he heard the door open, and his eyes lit up when he noticed who it was. "Gilbert?" he said, standing.

"Ludwig? What are you doing in here?" Gilbert immediately sensed something was wrong.

"You never came home last night," Ludwig replied. "We thought you'd run away again or gotten killed or something. We were worried!"

Gilbert stiffened. "Don't lie to me. You weren't worried," he hissed. "You guys have never worried about me."

"I worry about you," Ludwig said softly. "You're my brother. When you didn't come home, I thought it was because of something I'd done. I'd hate to feel guilty if something happened to you. Oh, by the way..." He looked right at Gilbert. "Did you hurt Brigitta? Because when I came home last night, there was a cut on her cheek and she said you used a razor on her. Is that true?"

"Do not call her that!" _They've gotten to him. He's calling the bitch by her first name. How could you, Ludwig? How could you fall for their tricks?_ "She got what she deserved. You don't understand. She is a terrible person. She only brings bad things. I did what I had to do."

"What's wrong with you? You weren't like this when we were little!" Ludwig exclaimed. "We used to be best friends, and now... Why can't you be normal again? Go back to the way you were before-"

_Smack!_ Ludwig looked shocked when Gilbert's hand made contact with his cheek. The two boys stared at each other for quite some time, neither saying a word. Finally, Gilbert spoke, but his voice was dangerously low and calm.

"I can't go back to the way I used to be. Too much has happened. Don't you remember what happened seven years ago? When Mom died? When the only person who loved me left forever? Don't you remember our bastard father blaming me? I was nine. How do you think I felt being blamed for my own mother's death? I've had to live with that guilt for seven years. Seven fucking years, Ludwig! On top of that, when our father married that bitch, oh, that just made everything worse. Of course, you wouldn't know. You're the perfect kid, the kid every parent dreams of. You're polite. You do your homework. You go to school. You get good grades in everything. That's why the bitch never made your life hell. It's not fair. I didn't ask to be different. It's not my fault." He took a breath. "Using that razor on her felt good. I finally got to do what _I_ wanted. I've been bound by rules for too long."

Ludwig's eyes widened. "Gilbert... Why? If you had told us about the way you were feeling earlier, we could have gotten you help."

"I don't want help." Gilbert looked away. "I'm too far gone to be helped. I'm never going to amount to anything. That's what everyone says." Then he stopped. _No... Elizabeta said that I'm worth something. She believes in me. She's the only one who does. She said I'm a good person. She was being honest, I think. But...can I really believe her? I'm too scared to trust. Trust gets you nowhere. This world is built on lies and deception. But maybe some people are good... Elizabeta's a good person. Still, I don't trust her fully._

Ludwig was about to respond, but at that moment the door to the principal's office opened, and their father and stepmother walked out. When they saw Gilbert, their expressions changed from mild satisfaction to subtle annoyance.

"Oh. Gilbert, you're actually here," Mr. Beilschmidt said, with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm here. Are you going to give me a medal or something?" Gilbert turned away and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can I go now? I have class."

"No, we're going to discuss the way you've been acting. The principal was telling us that you only show up for your first class and skip your other ones. Is this true?"

"So what if it is? You're fully aware I'm not going to graduate," Gilbert said. "Just leave me alone. It shouldn't be too hard. You've only been ignoring me for my whole life."

A frown flashed across Mr. Beilschmidt's face. "Don't talk to me like that. It's not true."

"But you hate me. You always have. You really think I wanted to be different? I didn't ask to look like this. None of this is my fault. It's your fault." Gilbert glared at his father. "What was going through your head when you decided to blame Mom's death on me? You thought a nine-year-old would be able to bear that kind of guilt? The reason my life is so fucked up is because of you. You've been messing with my head ever since I was little. Everything is your fault!"

"Do not raise your voice. We're in public."

"What, you don't want anyone to know that you've been emotionally abusing me all these years? Fuck that. Everyone should know. Everyone should know what a horrible person you are. I hate you. I hate you so much. You're the worst kind of person in this world." As Gilbert spoke, he felt around in his pocket.

His hand touched the razor that had been in there since the morning before.

_**A/N:**_** Random side note: My drama teacher this semester looks so much like Austria. Seriously. I know this has nothing to do with the story, but I felt it was important information.**

**Also, I'm pretty sure Gilbert's never used a toaster before. It would confound him.**

**This chapter went through so many revisions, as I touched upon earlier. I wanted Gilbert to finally confront his father about everything, and we see that here. Of course, there's more to come. I hope you like it!**


	12. Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Green Day)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**So I'm taking a Genocide & Crimes Against Humanity course this semester. On Monday we're going to be discussing our heritage (considering my great-great-grandfather was in the White Russian Army, I think it should be fun). (And I have the same name as Archduke Franz Ferdinand's wife, so I was a huge joke in my History class last year). Completely irrelevant to the plot here. Just random facts about my supremely boring life.**

**Please enjoy this chapter!**

Elizabeta glanced at the clock. Nine minutes had passed since Gilbert had left the room. _If he's not back in one minute, then I have to go look for him. I hope he's not in trouble for anything._ Naturally, she was too caught up in her thoughts to be paying any attention to the lesson. So when she heard Mr. Vargas say, "Okay, get into groups now," she was confused and unsure of what to do.

As she looked around, she made eye contact with Laura, who motioned for her to come over. Seeing as everyone else was already in groups, Elizabeta stood up and went over to Laura's desk, sitting in an empty chair nearby. "So what are we working on?" Elizabeta asked.

"No clue. I wasn't paying attention. But..." Laura's eyes narrowed slightly. "What's up with you and Beilschmidt? I saw you two going home together yesterday, and then today you came in with him. There's something going on. Tell me."

"Nothing's 'going on'," Elizabeta said. "We're friends, that's all."

Laura scoffed. "You're kidding, right? No one can be friends with him. He's a selfish jerk who doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"That isn't true. He just has a lot going on in his personal life. Underneath that act of toughness, he's actually really sweet and vulnerable." Elizabeta smiled slightly. "He had nowhere to stay last night, so I let him stay at my house."

"And did you do anything?" Natalya asked.

Elizabeta cocked her head. "Like what?"

"Come on, stop acting," Laura said. "Everyone can tell."

"I have no idea what you guys are talking about," Elizabeta responded. "We went home, I gave him a tour of the house, we had dinner with my mom, we talked, and that's it. Nothing more."

"So you didn't sleep together?"

"What?" Elizabeta exclaimed. "No! Are you crazy?"

Laura held up her hands. "Hey, calm down. It was just an assumption."

"Why would you think something like that? I'm not that kind of person!" Elizabeta's face was bright red. "We did absolutely nothing like that, I swear to God."

"All right. I believe you," Laura said. "But I, uh, kind of texted the whole class that you, uh, you know..."

"I told you not to do that," Natalya muttered.

"Oh, shut up, Natalya." With a sigh, Laura looked at Elizabeta. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have texted everyone. Are we cool now?"

"No! We are not 'cool'." Elizabeta crossed her arms. "Now the whole class thinks I'm some kind of slut! Honestly, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"What did you guys talk about?" Natalya asked, changing the subject.

Elizabeta shrugged. "A lot of stuff. He's been through so much. I'm happy that he feels comfortable enough with me to tell me about his life."

"You like him, don't you?"

"No... At least, I don't think so." With a frown, Elizabeta shook her head. "Even if I did like him, it's not like he would ever like me back. He's so cautious around people. It would take him years to fully trust me."

Laura offered a sympathetic smile. "You're a nice person. Maybe it won't take him too long to trust you."

"He talked to you, so I'm sure he has some sort of feelings for you," Natalya added.

"Yeah. Maybe you guys are right," Elizabeta said with a smile.

. . . .

Gilbert's hand tightened around the razor's handle. If worse came to worse, he would use it to defend himself. Of course, being as high-strung as he was, he would probably react to the slightest thing.

His father's expression darkened. "You are not to talk to me that way. It's extremely disrespectful. Why can't you be more like your brother? He's polite and knows his place."

"I will never be like him!" Gilbert shouted. "I'm my own person. I don't want to be anyone else. Why can't anyone understand that?"

"Gilbert..." Ludwig said hesitantly. "Please calm down..."

"Don't tell me what to do. Just shut up and stay out of this. It doesn't concern you." Ideas for an escape plan ran through Gilbert's mind. _I could just run out of here... But then they'd chase me. Ooh, I'll keep yelling until Elizabeta shows up. She'll save me. Hopefully. It's been ten minutes. Come on, chop chop. Get down here. Please._ He started fiddling with the unseen razor, flinching when it accidentally cut his finger. When he pulled his hand out of his pocket to examine the cut, he heard a clatter and several gasps. Confused, he looked down.

The razor was lying at his feet. It was only then that he realized he had never cleaned off the blood.

"What the hell..." His father stared at the razor. "Where did you get that? Why do you have it? Whose blood is that?"

"I don't have to tell you anything," Gilbert said. "You wouldn't care. You've never cared."

Ludwig looked at his brother with a worried expression on his face. "Gilbert, please tell me you didn't hurt anyone. Please. You're better than that."

"I thought I told you to shut up!" _Why are they interrogating me? Stop it... Leave me alone! You don't know anything. Get out! Get out of my life! Please... Someone help me..._

Gilbert snapped back to reality when his cheek was suddenly slapped. It took him a minute to realize that it was his father who had slapped him. Stunned, Gilbert took a step back, raising his arms to cover his face. He cried out when his father grabbed his right arm and pushed up his sleeve. Gilbert managed to pull his arm away and step back, but by then it was too late.

A tense silence filled the room. Gilbert clutched his arm and trembled, horrified that his secret had been discovered. _No one was supposed to know... What's going to happen to me now? I'm not crazy..._

"Wh-what happened to your arm?" The silence was broken by Ludwig's quiet, shaky voice.

"Nothing. It's nothing," Gilbert said, struggling to keep his voice as even as possible. "Nothing happened. Nothing..."

"You lying piece of shit," Mr. Beilschmidt growled. "You did that to yourself, didn't you? Your mother used to do that. She was messed up in the head. Apparently, so are you. Why are you so much like her?"

"It's not my fault! It's not my fault!" Gilbert shouted, ignoring the tears that began to roll down his face. "Mom loved me... I know she did. She didn't kill herself because of me! I'm sure there was something else going on!" He shook his head wildly. "I'm not part of this family anymore! I'm done! You guys can go on living your perfect fucking life. I quit!"

He ignored his father's angry shouts. He ignored his brother's pleas. Gilbert backed out of the office and ran down the hall, not really sure why or where he was going.

_I'm sorry, Mom... What do I do now? Elizabeta never came to save me. She said she would! I thought things were going to get better. But they're just getting worse, huh? Mom... I don't know where to go from here._

_**A/N:**_** I really have to stop procrastinating. This would have been up hours ago but I kept getting distracted by YouTube. That and I was cooking dinner.**

**03/02/15: I will try to update this as soon as possible! I've just been really busy with the start of the new semester and my heart problems. Questions from the Guest reviews will be answered in the next chapter. I promise!**

**10/02/15: I am SO sorry for not updating this. I've been having some issues coming up with ideas to start the next chapter. Also, I've been going through a lot of shit lately and people on my end aren't exactly being supportive and I don't really know what to do anymore. I'm really stressed about school and for some reason my asthma's acting up. I know you guys probably don't want to hear about my problems, so I'll just end my rant here. Again, I'm sorry.**


	13. Viva La Vida (Coldplay)

**Author: MercurialLily  
><strong>**Fandom: Hetalia  
><strong>**Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist  
><strong>**Rating: T  
><strong>**Pairing: Eventual PruHun**

**I never meant for it to take so long to post this chapter. I can't apologize enough. I feel terrible for making you guys wait.**

**Also, I said I'd answer questions from the Guest reviews. Here we go:**

**From my school experience, principals don't seem to care about yelling in the office. Once there was a legitimate screaming match in the office of my school and the principal didn't give a shit. But perhaps the principal will try and help Gilbert. I honestly have no idea.**

**Laura's the kind of girl who acts like she's your best friend, but she's actually just a huge gossip who enjoys stirring things up. I'm sure everyone has known that kind of person at least once in their lifetime.**

**We'll find out a bit more about Brigitta, but basically when she first joined the family, she tried to be nice to Gilbert, but seeing as the poor kid was traumatized after his mother's suicide (and was awkward around strangers to begin with), they didn't really get on that well. It was around that time when Gilbert began to withdraw from people, and Brigitta decided he was a lost cause and gave up on trying to befriend him.**

**And was Gilbert really the cause of his mother's death? I can't tell you yet. It will be revealed eventually!**

**Now onto (un)lucky Chapter 13! Please enjoy!**

Gilbert was still running.

He had left the school some time ago and was now hurrying through the wooded area nearby, desperate to get away. From what? His family, who had messed him up from the start? His classmates, who constantly tormented him? Maybe he was just trying to escape himself.

Elizabeta had said that she would help him, and he had believed her. She had offered him her friendship. She had let him into her life and gave him food and a place to sleep. Her kindness had shocked him. When was the last time someone had actually been nice to him? Unlike everyone else in his life, Elizabeta seemed genuine. There were no plastic smiles or false compassion from her. She really was different from the other kids.

Then why hadn't Elizabeta come to check on him? Was she secretly just like everyone else? Had she been lying to him all this time? The logical part of his brain ignored the fact that maybe it was just because ten minutes hadn't yet passed. He was too convinced that the whole world was against him.

His shoe suddenly caught on a tree root and he fell forward, landing face-first on the ground. His cheek scraped against another root as he slid against the muddy trail. For several minutes, Gilbert simply lay there, listening to the sounds of the woods: animals chattering, wind blowing through the trees, the gentle babble of a nearby stream. It was so peaceful, so pure. It was something he didn't deserve.

The only thing he knew was pain and suffering. Anything good that happened to him was just a fluke. Did that mean Elizabeta was a fluke as well? Of course it did. There was no room for happiness in his life. It was something he would never have. No matter how hard he tried, he would never attain it.

He was hated. He was a failure. He would never amount to anything. He was certain that no one would be surprised if he ended up killing himself. To him, life just wasn't worth living anymore. Granted, that had been his main thought for years, but now he realized it was actually true. There was no point in staying alive.

But-and this was a problem-his razor was back at the school. After he'd dropped it, he'd forgotten to pick it up. That didn't matter, however. He'd always been good at improvising. Somehow he'd find another way.

Slowly, Gilbert stood up. He ignored the mud covering the front of his uniform. _Hey, didn't Elizabeta tell me I had to wash this? Well, whatever._ Instead, he touched his cheek, the one that had scraped against the root. When he drew his hand away, he saw blood on his fingers. It was only then that he noticed the stinging sensation coming from his cheek. For some reason, this small pain was one of the most annoying things he'd ever felt. He couldn't understand why. He considered himself to be relatively numb to pain after all these years. So why was this little injury causing him so much grief?

Gilbert shook his head and took a sharp breath. "Just ignore it, you idiot," he muttered. "Nothing matters anymore. It'll all be over soon." Yes, soon everything would come to an end. He would be at peace. And no one would even notice his absence.

He began walking down the path. With his mind so concentrated on his demise, he didn't even realize that he was crying again.

. . . .

The buzzing of her phone pulled Elizabeta out of the conversation. Glancing at it, she saw that her mother had just texted her. More importantly, she realized that almost fifteen minutes had passed since Gilbert had left the classroom. "Ah, sorry," she said, standing up. "But I have to go to the washroom."

Both Laura and Natalya regarded her with mild curiosity. "All right," Laura said nonchalantly. "Whatever."

"We're going to hang out at lunch, right?" Elizabeta asked.

"Whatever," Laura said again. "It doesn't matter to me. Do what you want."

"I'm fine with anything," Natalya added.

Elizabeta frowned slightly. "Okay. I'll see you later, I guess." Deciding not to wait for a response, she left the room. Naturally, she wasn't headed to the washroom. Instead she made her way downstairs to the office, where she knew Gilbert had gone.

There was quite a bit on her mind, so she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going and bumped into a boy coming out of the office. Elizabeta let out a noise of surprise, as did the boy, who then almost immediately said, "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going..."

"Oh, no, don't apologize, it was my fault," Elizabeta replied. "I'm the one who wasn't paying attention." She smiled apologetically and stepped back to get a better look at the boy. He was taller than her, with neat blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. There was no badge on the collar of his shirt, so Elizabeta deduced that he was a first-year. Something about his appearance was vaguely familiar to her.

The boy seemed to be observing her as well. After a moment or two, he said, "You're a third-year, right?" Elizabeta answered in the affirmative, and the boy continued: "Then do you by any chance know my brother? You probably don't, but-"

"What's his name?" Elizabeta asked.

"Gilbert. He's a little shorter than me, and he's-"

"Ah-ha." Elizabeta nodded. "Yes, I do know him," she said. No wonder he looked familiar; this kid was Gilbert's younger brother. "We're friends, actually. He's told me a bit about you."

The boy looked a little flustered. "H-he has? It wasn't anything bad, was it?"

"All he said was that he had a brother, and that you're a huge overachiever," Elizabeta said. "He never told me your name. Or anything else, for that matter."

"Oh. Well, my name's Ludwig. It's funny, Gilbert always said he didn't have any friends."

"Well, I've only just transferred here," Elizabeta explained. "I'm Elizabeta."

"Yeah, he's never mentioned you. But that doesn't really surprise me," Ludwig said with a shrug. "He always keep himself locked up in his room. Whenever I try to talk to him, he either yells at me to go away or just flat-out ignores me. He wasn't like this when we were young... We were friends then."

Elizabeta nodded slowly. "I don't mean to invade on your family life, but do you think it maybe has to do with your mom's death?"

Ludwig's eyes widened. "He told you about that?"

"Yeah. It's pretty likely that his actions are linked to that. But it's just a guess." Elizabeta shrugged. "I'm no psychology major."

"Can I ask... How much do you know? Not just about our mom, but about everything else."

"Uh, I know he hates your dad and stepmom. His reasons are kind of odd, though. And I'm sure he's jealous of you for being good at everything." Elizabeta thought for a minute. "I also know about, um..." She gestured to her arm. "I saw before he actually said anything. It makes me so sad that he's experiencing all this pain. No one deserves to feel like that."

"Why would he tell you and not say anything to me?" Ludwig asked, mostly to himself. "How many times have I told him that I can help? Did I do something wrong?"

"Hey, don't get mad at yourself," Elizabeta said. "It's not your fault. You don't always know someone's reasoning for something. I don't know why he told me. But what I do know is that he's convinced nothing's worth it anymore. All we can do is hope that the rational part of his mind stops him from doing anything too serious."

Ludwig nodded and sighed. "Oh, by the way," he said, "do you know where he is?"

"No." Elizabeta shook her head. "I thought he was in the office."

"He was, but he ran out a few minutes ago. I have no idea where he went."

Elizabeta ran a hand through her hair. "Oh, no..." One thought was running through her head: _I hope he's not going to hurt himself..._

_**A/N:**_** I am so sorry for making you wait for so long! Ugh! I'm a bad person.**

**Gilbert's thoughts are so contradictory. Then again, so are my thoughts. Can't our brains just shut up for a few minutes?!**

**Also, I just realized while writing this that Gilbert refers to his family with singular pronouns (such as "my") while Ludwig uses plural pronouns (like "our"). It just goes to show you that Ludwig still considers them to be a whole family, while Gilbert's detached himself. This is completely irrelevant. I'm going to shut up now.**


	14. Coming Home Part II (Skylar Grey)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**Thank you for 1,500 views! I love you all so much. There's drama in this chapter (but hasn't there been drama in every other chapter?). Enjoy!**

"Fuck the cops," Gilbert muttered to himself as the police cruiser drove past him for the third time. He had ended up on the town's main street hours ago and was trying to ignore the strange looks he was getting. Granted, he did stand out quite a bit-the front of his shirt was covered in mud and his hair was hopelessly matted-but that didn't mean people could judge him, right? Of course, in a town like this it was only natural to be judged for being different. Considering that almost every other kid actually attended all of their classes and got good grades, he was viewed as an outcast, the kid no one wanted.

Had he ever been wanted? He had been so convinced all these years that his mother had loved him, but now he wasn't so sure. _Is it true... Is it because of me that she killed herself?_ He didn't want to believe it, but maybe it was true. He was despised that much.

A loud crack of thunder startled him, and almost immediately fat raindrops began to fall down from the sky. Gilbert looked up at the dark sky, letting the rain land on his face. It was calming in a way. To him, it felt as though the world was crying. Crying for all the lost souls. Crying because of destruction and devastation. Crying because nothing could be done.

The rain was almost appropriate, seeing as Gilbert was filled with so much emotional pain that he couldn't handle it. Maybe the world would be a better place without him. That had to be the truth.

More thunder rumbled across the sky as rain poured down. Within minutes, Gilbert was completely soaked, and he shivered slightly. He wanted the rain to just wash him away.

He jumped when he heard the honk of a car horn. Turning to his left, he saw the all-too-familiar police cruiser parked by the curb. The window rolled down and the officer inside called out, "Hey, kid, what are you doing out in the rain?"

Gilbert shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "I...like it," he said slowly. "And I don't really have anywhere to go."

The officer squinted. "Aren't you Gilbert Beilschmidt? The kid who always runs away?" he asked.

"Um..." _Shit._ "I don't know who you're talking about..."

"Don't lie," the officer said. "Get in. Your parents are looking for you."

Gilbert bit his lip. He wanted to say, "Leave me alone."

He wanted to say, "Don't tell me what to do."

He wanted to say, "My family doesn't care about me."

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to disappear.

He didn't do what he wanted.

He got into the car.

. . . .

Ludwig looked up from his book when he heard a knock on the door. Before he could get up from his spot on the couch and answer it, he saw his father walk past the room to get the door. Setting his book down beside him, Ludwig listened quietly at the seemingly distant conversation. Though it was a little difficult for him to hear, he recognized his father's voice before hearing someone else-his brother.

The door slammed shut, and right away his father yelled: "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Then there was Gilbert's voice: "Nothing's wrong with me. I'm fine."

"That's a lie. You're the most fucked-up person I've ever known. If it wasn't for you, your mother might still be alive."

"Stop saying-"

There was a smack and a cry of pain from Gilbert. Ludwig flinched as his father continued, "You shut your mouth. You know better than to talk back to me. Now go to your room. You are not to leave until I give you permission. Get out of my sight."

Ludwig remained sitting quietly as he watched his brother hurry up the stairs. He waited several more minutes before getting up and following him. "Gilbert, are you okay?" Ludwig called, making his way to his brother's room.

Gilbert's door was shut and almost certainly locked. There was no response-only the soft sound of crying. Listening carefully, Ludwig could hear quiet muttering. "It's not my fault, it's not my fault." Over and over. Occasionally broken by sobs.

Ludwig knocked on the door. "Hey, talk to me," he said. "I'm really worried about you. If you want to talk, I'm here."

"Shut up," he heard Gilbert answer. "Go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. You're just like everyone else. Go away."

"But-"

"Are you deaf? Fuck off." The door suddenly swung open, and Ludwig was met with Gilbert's angry glare. "Leave me alone. You don't understand anything about how I feel. You're not worried about me! You don't want me to talk about my problems! You just want me to be normal like the rest of the world." Gilbert took a breath. "Can't you tell that I'll never be normal? I'm not like you. I'm not a good person. I'm sorry."

Ludwig regarded Gilbert cautiously. The quick change of mood from pissed off to sad and apologetic was somewhat concerning. Still, he remained quiet and listened.

"I'm a bad person. There's nothing I can do to change that. You'll always be better than me. I'll always be the outcast." Gilbert's voice was shaking ever so slightly, but he kept talking. "I've been a terrible big brother. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd tried harder. Then maybe things would be different. But the past can't be changed."

"Why are you talking like this?" Ludwig asked. He couldn't shake the sudden feeling of dread that overcame him. "Things can change..."

"They can't. I'm sorry." Gilbert smiled weakly. "Everything will be better without me, I'm sure of it. Have a good life. You won't be needing me anymore."

"Gilbert, wait!" Ludwig cried. But Gilbert had already closed the door, locking it with a click. Ludwig frantically pounded on the door, but there was no response.

**_A/N:_ This has taken FOREVER to post because I had no ideas for it. It definitely ended on a different note than I expected. What do you think's gonna happen next?**


	15. Don't Dream It's Over (Crowded House)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**Guess who spent the night in the hospital? :/**

Elizabeta couldn't sleep.

It was past midnight and she was laying on her bed in the dark, but she wasn't tired. Her mind was in overdrive. She was worried. Gilbert had never come home. She hadn't even seen him since first period.

Where had he gone? She remembered that he had mentioned running away before, but that had been when he'd lived with his family. She thought that maybe he would have come back here. She and her mother wouldn't judge him, and he'd be safe at their house. He didn't have a cell phone, so she couldn't call him. All she could do was lay here and hope he was okay.

"Of course he's okay." Elizabeta was surprised when she heard her voice. She hadn't meant to say her thought out loud. But she realized that she was just trying to reassure herself. Truthfully, she had no clue whether or not Gilbert was okay. She actually doubted it.

Elizabeta sat up and turned on the lamp on her nightstand, trying to make sense of Gilbert's running off. "He's clearly depressed," she mused. "He has no friends except for me. I don't know how long he's been cutting, but judging by the scars on his arm it's been a few years. He doesn't know how to take care of himself. He's been neglected by his father. He's jealous of his brother. In his eyes, there's only one way out. And that's..." Elizabeta paused as a realization came over her. The reason why he ran away...

"He's going to kill himself." She suddenly felt dizzy. "All my efforts to try and befriend him are going to go to waste. There's nothing I can do, is there?"

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the phone ringing from downstairs. Confused, she dragged herself out of her bed and made her way down the stairs to the phone table. Flipping on the light, Elizabeta picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. "Hello?"

All she heard from the other end was shaky breathing. Annoyed, Elizabeta was about to hang up when she heard a voice come through: "Elizabeta? Please tell me that's you."

"Yes, it is," Elizabeta replied. "Who is this?"

"It's Gilbert. Listen-"

Elizabeta breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God you're okay. I was worried about you! Where are you? How did you get this number?"

"I looked you up in the phone book," came Gilbert's blunt response. "I'm sorry for calling you this late, but I just... I needed to talk to you."

"What is it?" Elizabeta asked.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I thought things were getting better, but they're not. I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted to be friends with me."

"Gilbert, where are you right now?" _I have to keep him talking. He'll stay safe that way, right?_

"I'm at my house. The police brought me back," Gilbert said. "I got in so much trouble for running away again. They don't want me here anymore. I know they're going to send me away. I don't want that. I'm scared."

"You can come and stay here again," Elizabeta suggested. "You liked it here, didn't you? Come on, it's okay."

"I'd love to, but I can't. I'm not allowed to leave here until my dad gives me permission. I know that sounds stupid, but he's awful when he's angry. I don't know what he'd do if he found me sneaking out. I'm sorry, but I'm staying here."

"But you're not going to do anything bad, right? We can talk for as long as you want," Elizabeta said, trying to hide the fear in her voice. "It's okay. Just stay on the phone. You'll be all right."

"I want to believe you, but I just can't. I don't think anything will work." There was a long silence. "Thank you so much for making the effort to be friends with me. You have no idea how much that means. You're a good person, Elizabeta. Remember that. Whoever you end up with will be the luckiest person on earth."

"H-hey, don't start like that. You're going to be okay." Elizabeta didn't care that her voice sounded panicked. She _was_ panicking. "We'll see each other at school tomorrow. Just keep that in mind, all right? I can help you-"

She heard a weak laugh from the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone can help me. Thank you for caring about me, though. At least I was able to find one friend."

"Don't hang up. Stay on the line. Gilbert, talk to me. Gilbert!" It took her several seconds to realize he had hung up. Elizabeta dropped the receiver in shock before she screamed.

Then she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Erzsi, why are you yelling? Are you okay?" Her mother appeared beside her.

Elizabeta frantically shook her head. Her voice was shaking as she said, "I-it's Gilbert. He called and said that he needed to talk, and he just kept going on about how sorry he was for everything and that nothing's worth it anymore, a-and then he hung up... I'll look up his address. Call an ambulance, please!"

. . . .

Why was everything turning so terrible? He'd been fine yesterday. Then it all changed.

_Nothing's going to get better. This is it. There's nothing more I can do._

As he sat on the floor tying his belt into a noose, Gilbert was barely aware that he was crying. One thought was running through his mind: _This is it._ He didn't care how much it would hurt or how long it would take. No amount of physical pain could ever trump the pain he felt inside.

He was determined to follow through with this. It wouldn't be like all those other times when he was too scared. Everything was going to end tonight.

In the back of his mind, he thought about Elizabeta. She had done everything in her power to help him. _But I can't be helped._ He'd called her just to hear her voice one last time. He felt awful for doing this to her, but there was nothing else he could do. This was it. Hopefully she wouldn't get too upset.

Everything would be over soon.

This was it.

This was the end.

_**A/N:**_** Yes, I enjoy writing cliffhangers to keep you in suspense. But I am going to say that Gilbert won't die. You'll find out how and why not in the next chapter or so. I don't kill off main characters. Besides, this story will have a happy ending. Or as happy as I can make it.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	16. Wake Me Up (Avicii)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**I'm so sorry for all the shit I've put you guys through. I'm amazed (and glad) that you've stayed with it!**

"I have some unfortunate news," Mr. Vargas had said that morning. "Gilbert Beilschmidt is in the hospital following an apparent suicide attempt last night."

Elizabeta was still in shock. It all felt like a dream. It had to be. This wasn't happening. Soon she would just wake up and everything will be all right.

But this was reality.

Despite the news, none of Elizabeta's classmates seemed bothered. They were eerily calm, as though it didn't affect them. Elizabeta knew that no one had liked Gilbert-they didn't even speak to him-but shouldn't they feel at least a little bit of sympathy for him? _He never did anything wrong. If these kids weren't so judgmental, maybe this never would have happened._

Elizabeta stared blankly at the work package in front of her. She couldn't focus-no, she didn't want to focus. She was worried about Gilbert. She had no idea how he was doing. Was he awake or in a coma? How much damage had he done to himself? Would she be able to see him?

"Elizabeta? Hey, are you okay?"

"Huh?" Elizabeta jumped when she heard Antonio's voice. Then she nodded, avoiding looking at him. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You don't seem like yourself," Antonio said quietly. "You can talk to me, you know."

Elizabeta shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'll be fine." Trying her best to fake a smile, she turned to Antonio and repeated, "I'm fine."

Antonio looked doubtful, but he shrugged and said, "All right," as he went back to his work.

With a sigh, Elizabeta looked at her own paper. The words weren't making any sense to her. They were blurring together and making nonsensical sentences. She was dizzy. She felt nauseous. Then she began to cry.

It wasn't loud, melodramatic crying. It was soft and muted, as she didn't want anyone to know. Tears escaped her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. _Just do your work,_ she thought. _Do your stupid work._ But she couldn't. Her brain wasn't listening to her. It was making her think of all the bad things, like it wanted her to completely break down in front of everyone.

Before she knew it, the bell rang for lunch. Elizabeta decided that she would do the package for homework as she started to pack up. _Maybe I should just call Mom and tell her I'm not feeling well. She might come and pick me up. I mean, I'd be telling the truth._

She made it out of the classroom and halfway down the stairs before the tears came streaming down her cheeks. Leaning against the wall, she wiped her face with her sleeve and took a few breaths to compose herself. Then she pulled out her phone and dialed her mother's number.

After a minute or two, there was no answer, so she hung up. _I'll try later._ As she was about to continue down the stairs and go to the cafeteria, she saw Laura and Natalya coming down after her. "Elizabeta!" Laura called. "How are you?"

Elizabeta could sense some insincerity in her voice, but she shrugged it off. "I'm...fine, I guess," she replied.

"You are? Oh, that's good!" Laura smiled. "I thought you'd be sad. You know, with the news we got this morning."

"What? Oh, yeah..." Elizabeta looked down and shrugged slightly. "I'm trying not to think about it. It's so sad. I was the last one to talk to him. He called me last night and we spoke for a few minutes, but then he just hung up. Maybe it was something I said-"

"Hey, don't blame yourself. We all knew it was coming," Laura said. "He was so messed up. Actually, he's done us all a favour. Now we don't have to see his stupid face every day."

"And the class won't be brought down by his negativity," Natalya added.

Elizabeta couldn't believe her ears. "He's not dead!" she exclaimed. "He's just in the hospital. And how can you say such horrible things? He's a human being, just like the rest of us. We all have our ups and downs. We all have different facets to our personalities. You're acting as though you have no flaws and that something's wrong with him because he does. Yes, his flaws may seem to be more obvious, but that's because he's unaware of how to act around people. Social situations make him anxious. There's nothing wrong with that. It's something he can't help. Underneath it all, he's just a lonely kid who wants a friend. That's why I wanted to get to know him. I didn't want him to be lonely."

"Well, it seems he didn't want your friendship," Laura pointed out. "He tried to kill himself anyway."

"What the... No! It wasn't because of me! There were a lot of things contributing to that. But it wasn't anything to do with me." Elizabeta closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself before she continued. "I know he liked the fact that I wanted to be his friend. He told me so. I just wish there was more I could have done to help him."

"Can't you just accept the fact that he probably didn't want your help? Considering how fucked up he was-"

"Don't say that! You don't know what was going through his mind," Elizabeta said. "The poor guy's been through a lot."

Laura squinted. "You sure do know a lot about him," she said.

"That's because I care about him." Shaking her head, Elizabeta stepped past Laura and Natalya. "I'll see you later."

. . . .

Gilbert suddenly woke up.

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his room.

Granted, he was in a room; it just wasn't his. It was annoying bright. The walls were a dull shade of beige, not as ugly as the walls at school, but still bad. There was strange equipment on them, but he couldn't figure out why or what it was for. There was a digital clock on the wall to his right. However, his vision was too blurry for him to make out what time it was.

Then he realized that he was in a bed, but something didn't feel right. He figured out quite quickly what it was: his wrists were tied to the sides of the bed. He struggled to free them, but his attempts were futile. It wasn't going to work.

Frustrated and immensely confused as to why he was strapped to a bed in a strange room, Gilbert decided to yell. Of course he didn't account for the fact that his throat was extremely dry, so his yell sounded more like a squawk. Growing increasingly irritated, he flailed as best he could and continued to try and yell.

His struggles were finally acknowledged when the room's door slid open. Unfortunately, the people who came in were not the ones he wanted to see.

A doctor entered, followed by his father and brother. _At least the bitch isn't here._ His father looked pissed, while Ludwig just had a worried expression on his face. The doctor approached the bed, and much to Gilbert's dismay, tightened the restraints around his wrists. Gilbert let out an annoyed noise, but didn't say anything.

Ludwig was the first to speak. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Gilbert frowned slightly. "What?" His voice was hoarse, and he realized that his throat was very sore.

"You don't remember last night? You really scared me," Ludwig said softly. "I honestly thought you were going to die."

At first Gilbert wasn't sure what Ludwig was talking about. Then the events of the previous night came back to him.

_That's right, last night was terrible. I think I called Elizabeta at some point. Didn't I hang up on her? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did. Then I went back to my room... I had a belt, right? And then..._

The last thing he remembered was gasping for breath before everything went dark.

"Um..." Gilbert nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess. I mean, I'm not too thrilled about being tied to a hospital bed."

"It's so you don't cause any harm to yourself or others," the doctor explained. "Your father actually requested it."

"Oh, really?" Gilbert flashed an angry look at his father, but shrank back slightly when he saw his father's face.

"It's better for you this way," his father said. "Now you won't do anything stupid."

"But-"

"Be quiet."

"You'll stay here for three days, and then we'll see how you're doing. If your father thinks you still need to be under observation, you'll stay here for a while longer. Okay?" the doctor said.

Gilbert muttered several curses under his breath, but then he nodded. "Yeah, sure." He stayed silent for a few more minutes, and by that time, his father, the doctor, and eventually Ludwig left the room.

_This isn't fair. I shouldn't be restrained like I'm some kind of animal. I'm not crazy. I swear I'm not._

He wasn't going to be stuck here forever. He knew he'd find a way out.

**_A/N:_ Yay, Chapter 16. I remember when I first started writing this. I never knew there were going to be so many chapters! (And there's still a TON to come)**

**Yes, some psychiatric patients are restrained. I've been in the psych ward; I've seen it.**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	17. Brave (Sara Bareilles)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**Yay, quicker update!**

Gilbert was bored out of his mind.

It was strange. He was used to being by himself, but there was something about being alone in a hospital room that he didn't like. Maybe it was because he was strapped to the bed. Maybe it was because doctors kept coming in and asking him questions. It was all just very odd.

He realized that he'd been staring at the clock for seven minutes. It was near midnight and, from what he could tell, it was also shift change. That meant that there would be more doctors and nurses in the halls, as well as patients being transferred, so theoretically he could blend right in and then find a way out of the hospital. The question was, how would he get out of this room?

He remembered that earlier he had been told that the closest washroom was down the hall. Then he was struck with a brilliant idea. If he could convince someone to let him go, then maybe he'd be able to sneak out. Yes, that was a great plan. _You are a genius._

Taking a breath, Gilbert shouted, "I have to go to the washroom! Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

There was no response for quite some time. Just as he was about to call out again, the door slid open and a young nurse entered the room. "Did you want something?" she asked.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "No, I just felt like shouting," he said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice. He didn't give the nurse a chance to respond, as he immediately added, "I actually really have to use the washroom. Will you let me go?"

The nurse frowned slightly. "I'm not sure about that-"

"Please? I'll be quiet for the rest of the night." Gilbert tried his hardest to look like he was telling the truth.

"Well..." After a pause, the nurse nodded and made her way to the side of the bed. She was about to undo Gilbert's restraints when she looked at him suspiciously. "Can I be sure that you won't try and escape?" she asked.

Gilbert nodded several times. "I'll be good," he said. "I promise."

"All right, good." The nurse slowly released his left wrist. "Don't move until I say so," she ordered as she undid the rest of the restraints. Gilbert remained perfectly still the whole time, only moving once he heard, "Okay, you can sit up now. But don't make any sudden movements."

"Gotcha." Gilbert sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, relishing the sensation of being able to move again. It was wonderful. He stretched his arms over his head and wiggled his toes, just to make sure this was real. And it was. It was glorious.

It took him a few minutes to notice that there was a pair of slippers on the floor. He quickly put them on and stood up, realizing that he was extremely dizzy. Taking a second to steady himself, Gilbert took a deep breath and looked at the nurse. "Okay, I'm ready."

The nurse didn't reply, and instead grabbed Gilbert's arm and led him out of the room and down the hall. Gilbert went along quietly, trying to act calm and harmless. But of course, he was looking around for an escape route and the perfect chance to make a break for it. He knew he had to be patient. If he attempted anything too soon, he'd get in trouble.

Before long, they were at the washrooms. "Wait here," the nurse said. "I'm going to get a male attendant to go in with you to make sure you don't get up to no good. Do not move from this spot."

"Of course I won't!" Gilbert pretended that the comment had offended him. "I'll stay here."

"You'd better," the nurse replied. After giving him a warning look, she let go of his arm and headed off in another direction.

Gilbert waited until she was completely out of sight before he darted away, hurrying down another hall and into a nearby stairwell. Being the idiot he was, he slipped and nearly fell down the stairs. Luckily he caught himself before he broke his neck and made sure he was careful descending the stairs. However, the fact that he was still very dizzy wasn't helping in the least, and he had to stop several times to wait for the episodes to pass. _Come on, you're so close to freedom. Don't pass out now._ Finally he was able to fully regain his balance, and he kept going.

Naturally, being so caught up in his escape plan had made him forget about what the weather was like. As soon as he stepped outside, he was hit with a blast of cold wind and a shower of raindrops. On top of that, it was also quite dark. He then realized that he had no clue where he was planning on going. After less than a minute of decision-making, he came up with the best place: Elizabeta's house. She probably wouldn't mind him randomly showing up in the middle of the night demanding a place to stay. It was perfect.

And then he realized he didn't know how to get to her house from the hospital. Dammit.

Luck had never really been on his side, but he decided to try it anyway. He set off in a random direction.

. . . .

Elizabeta was roused from a rather deep sleep by a loud crashing sound against her window. This concerned her. But maybe, seeing as it was still raining, it was just a branch or something hitting the side of the house. She wasn't sure. She'd just been sleeping. Her brain wasn't really up to making logical conclusions.

Then there was another crashing sound, followed by muffled cursing. Elizabeta sat up, clutching her comforter to her chest. Now she was scared. _Oh my God, is someone trying to break in? Is someone going to kill me? No, then they wouldn't be trying my window. I'm on the second floor._ This was not how she had expected to be woken in the middle of the night. Not by something as strange and random as crashing against her window.

The cursing ceased, and slowly Elizabeta began to relax. _Okay, they're going away. Now sleeping is a yes._

All of a sudden, she heard fists pounding on the front door. She let out the tiniest of squeaks and jumped out of bed, grabbing the closest object in case she needed to defend herself. The object she grabbed happened to be her curling iron, which was completely useless, but it was better than nothing. Then she left her room and crept down the stairs. _Why isn't Mom waking up? Does she not hear this?_

The pounding got louder. Elizabeta's fingers tightened around the curling iron as she advanced toward the door. _This is it. Please don't be a crazed murderer._ As quietly as possible, she unlocked the door and raised her curling iron, quickly pulling the door open. She prepared to strike-

"Hey, please don't hit me! I'm sorry!"

Elizabeta paused. She knew that voice... Flipping on the porch light, she saw, standing in front of her, was a soaking wet, shivering Gilbert. His hands were raised above his head, defending himself from Elizabeta's attack.

"Gilbert? What the...? Why are you here?" Elizabeta asked in disbelief. She lowered her curling iron and stared at him.

"What? Oh." Dropping his arms to his sides, Gilbert looked at her and smiled. "I'm here to stay with you."

_**A/N:**_** Are you happy for a quicker update? ;)**

**Yes, Gilbert was throwing stones at Elizabeta's window. Naturally he thought that would work.**

**I would just like to say how thankful I am for the kind reviews. They make me super happy (like the other day I had just woken up and checked my phone, and I had a new review and I was giggly for the rest of the day). I appreciate the time you take to make a dork like me squeal with delight. That sounded creepy, didn't it? I'll shut up now.**


	18. Suddenly I See (KT Tunstall)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**Another quick-ish update!**

"So that's why I decided to come here," Gilbert said. He was sitting in Elizabeta's living room with Elizabeta and her mother, happily eating a sandwich that Mrs. Héderváry had made him. It was now around one o'clock in the morning, and just like he had hoped, Elizabeta had been happy to see him. In fact, after she realized it was him at the door, she had dropped her curling iron and hugged him before letting him in and waking her mother. Gilbert was so happy that they cared.

"How did you find your way here?" Elizabeta asked. "It's the middle of the night and you've only been to our house once."

Gilbert shrugged. "I managed." He opted to not tell them that he'd gotten lost several times and nearly got hit by a car at one point.

"Well, we're just glad you're all right," Mrs. Héderváry said with a relieved smile. "Elizabeta was worried sick about you."

"_Mom!_" Elizabeta exclaimed. Then she looked at Gilbert and nodded. "Yeah, I was worried about you. I mean, the only thing I knew was that you were in the hospital, so of course I panicked and thought that maybe you weren't okay and that really scared me because I didn't want anything to happen to you-" Here she broke off and burst into tears. "I was so scared. Don't _ever_ do that to me again!"

"I'm sorry," Gilbert said quietly. He hadn't expected her to cry. Now he felt bad. "I never meant for you to get upset. I'm sorry."

Elizabeta raised her eyes to Gilbert's and smiled softly. "It's okay. You're safe now. Isn't that the only thing that matters?" Getting up from her spot on the couch, she approached Gilbert and hugged him gently. Gilbert returned the hug almost right away. It felt so nice to be wanted. Could he just freeze this moment and keep it forever? He was all too aware that good things didn't last long, so he always made sure to appreciate them. _Man, Elizabeta gives really good hugs. She should be a professional hug-giver. Does that kind of thing exist? It should. It would be really useful._

Mrs. Héderváry's came as a surprise: "You two are so cute."

Both Gilbert and Elizabeta froze when they heard her. Gilbert wasn't quite sure how to react, while Elizabeta spun around to face her mother and cried, "N-no, we're not! We're not 'cute'! We're just friends! D-definitely not cute." She paused for a millisecond. "I'm going back to bed! It's late and I'm tired. Uh, good night!" With an awkward nod, she fled the room. Gilbert heard her footsteps ascending the stairs.

Unsure of what to do now that she was gone, Gilbert looked down at his feet. He'd never been one for making conversation, so he kept quiet. Maybe if he didn't say anything, then Mrs. Héderváry wouldn't try and start talking to him. Not that he didn't want to talk to her. He wouldn't have minded if he was more awake, but he was tired and just wanted to sleep.

For once, luck was on his side, as Mrs. Héderváry said, "You must be tired. Do you want to go to sleep?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yes, actually," he replied. "Should I stay down here?"

"If you'd like to. But I'm sure Elizabeta wouldn't mind if you stayed in her room again."

"Okay, I'll go see what she wants." Gilbert stood up and added, "Thanks again for letting me stay." Then he headed upstairs.

It was so nice being in a place where he wasn't constantly being judged. This was what a home was supposed to feel like: no fighting, no tension, and kind words. Oh, and food. Food was very important. But the other things were just as important. Hopefully it wouldn't be taken away from him, just like everything else in his life.

When he got to the second floor, Gilbert noticed that Elizabeta's door was closed. For a moment he was unsure of what to do. He didn't exactly want to bother her if she was sleeping, but he didn't want to go back downstairs, either. He deliberated on what he was going to do for quite some time. Finally he came up with a solution.

He knocked on the door.

After a few seconds, the door slowly opened slightly, and Elizabeta peeked out. When she saw it was Gilbert, she opened the door all the way. "Would you like something?" she asked.

"I've come to sleep with you," Gilbert announced. Then he realized how that had sounded, and he immediately backtracked. "N-no, not like that! I-I mean sleep here, in your room. On the floor. Not in your bed. That would be weird." He could feel his cheeks burning.

Elizabeta laughed softly. "Of course, come in." She left her door open and went back to her bed. Just like last time, she set a pillow down on the floor for him.

Gilbert slowly entered the room and pondered whether or not to close the door. If he did, it might come across as creepy. If he didn't, Elizabeta might get mad at him for leaving it open. He had no idea what to do.

"You can close the door, you know," Elizabeta said, as if she could read his mind. "My mom knows we'll just be sleeping."

"Okay." Gilbert slowly closed the door and made his way over to the pillow on the floor. "Uh, do you have an extra blanket, by any chance?" he asked.

Elizabeta shook her head. "No, sorry... But you can have mine. I don't mind."

"No, that's yours. I don't want to take it from you," Gilbert said. "You keep it. I'll be fine." With a sigh, he sank to the floor with a quiet thud and laid his head on the pillow, facing away from Elizabeta. He didn't need a blanket. He was tougher than that.

He heard a sigh from Elizabeta, followed by the sound of heavy fabric hitting the ground. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Elizabeta's blanket crumpled on the floor behind him. He looked at it curiously, then regarded Elizabeta with the same inquiring face.

Elizabeta shrugged. "Take it. I don't need it," she said with a smile.

Gilbert tried to come up with a response, but he was so tired and the blanket looked so nice and warm... After another minute of just staring at it, he grabbed it and pulled it around himself. _So cozy._

"Good night," Elizabeta said, but Gilbert was too caught up in the joy of having a blanket to pay attention. By the time he processed that she had said something, Elizabeta had fallen asleep.

Everything was all right in the world. Gilbert was safe and happy. He never wanted to leave this place.

**_A/N:_ I love you guys for sticking with this story for all this time. Things will be brightening up a bit from here on out.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	19. One Step at a Time (Jordin Sparks)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**There's quite a bit of fluff in this. Just warning you so you don't die from diabetes.**

**Just so you know, the italics in the first part are quotes from other people. It'll make sense as you go.**

Everything was dark and cold. He could barely see as he stumbled along, desperate to find some kind of light source. His hands groped around and felt a wall; this place wasn't just an empty void, then. "Hello?" he called out.

There was no response.

For quite some time he walked along the wall, searching for an exit of sorts. Finally, his hand found what felt like a doorknob, and he turned it. It took him a few tries, but eventually the door swung open. He was suddenly blinded by a bright light and he stepped back.

Once he overcame the temporary blindness, he entered the room. At first, it was simply white. Then, slowly but surely, a red puddle formed in front of him. He knelt down and reached out to touch it, but immediately drew his hand back. It was blood. Real, actual blood. "What the...?"

_You're such a loser._

He looked up. "Who's there?" he asked. But no one was around. It was just blank space.

_Why don't you just give up already? It's not like anyone will miss you._

A sudden chill filled the room, and more blood puddles appeared all around him. The walls seemed to be closing in, crushing him, suffocating him.

_You'll never amount to anything._

_You're worthless, you hear me? Worthless!_

_If it weren't for you, maybe she'd still be alive._

His head was spinning. The voices grew louder and louder, mixing together and distorting. The room began to shake violently.

_No one will ever love you._

_You're a waste of space._

_Useless piece of shit._

_Once you're dead, everything will be okay. So go on. We won't miss you._

Something wrapped around his throat, and he frantically thrashed about, trying to get free, but to no avail. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. His throat was being crushed; he couldn't breathe. Then everything went black.

. . . .

Elizabeta was woken by the sound of screaming. Quickly sitting up, she looked over the side of her bed and saw Gilbert flailing about in his sleep. Elizabeta leaped out of bed and dropped to her knees at Gilbert's side, placing her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to stop his movements. "Gilbert, wake up!" she cried. Then she shook him, trying to rouse him from his slumber. "You're just dreaming! Wake up, please!"

Eventually her efforts worked, and Gilbert's eyes snapped open. They were filled with absolute fear. For a split second he seemed confused. Then his face crumpled and he began to cry. Slowly, he sat up and reached out his arms, seeking comfort and protection.

With a gentle smile, Elizabeta pulled Gilbert into a hug. "It's okay," she said softly.

Gilbert rested his head on Elizabeta's shoulder, his body trembling slightly. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he clung to her, as if he was afraid she would leave. But Elizabeta wouldn't leave him. She knew that he just needed someone who cared.

The door suddenly opened, and Elizabeta looked up to see her mother peering in. _She must have heard the screaming._ "It's okay," she said in a low voice, not wanting to startle Gilbert. "He just had a bad dream." Her mother nodded, and with a sympathetic look at Gilbert, stepped back and closed the door. Elizabeta heard her footsteps fading away.

"Thank you."

Elizabeta was surprised when Gilbert spoke. "Why are you thanking me?" she asked.

"For a lot of things. But mostly for being here for me. You care," Gilbert said softly. "You saved me from my nightmare, and you didn't yell at me."

"Why would I yell at you? You can't help having nightmares," Elizabeta said.

There was a slight pause. Then Gilbert murmured, "My father would always come into my room and yell at me when I'd wake up screaming and crying from nightmares. Whenever I tried to apologize, he hit me and told me not to talk back." He laughed softly. "For all these years, I thought I'd be stuck getting in trouble for having bad dreams. But then I met you. You've helped me realize that not everyone is bad. You have a good heart. Does that sound cheesy? It felt cheesy. But you get what I mean."

"Yeah... I do." Elizabeta removed Gilbert's arms from her waist and gently held his hands. "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through. I know I can't fix the past, but I can at least try and make your present and future better. You believe me, don't you?" she said.

Gilbert nodded. "I do."

"Good. Now I'm going downstairs to help Mom with breakfast," Elizabeta announced as she stood up. "You get cleaned up. There's an old sweatshirt in my closet if you want something warm to wear. The first floor gets pretty cold in the morning." With a smile, she left the room and descended the stairs, heading to the kitchen.

Mrs. Héderváry was busy mixing pancake batter in a bowl. She looked up when she heard Elizabeta trip and crash into the wall. "Are you okay, Erzsi?" she asked with a small laugh.

Elizabeta groaned softly and shook her head. "I just face-planted into a wall. How do you think I feel?" She rubbed her nose. "That _hurt_..."

"You goof," Mrs. Héderváry said. She was quiet for a few minutes. Then she asked, "You said Gilbert had a bad dream? Did he say what it was about?"

"No. But it seems like he's pretty prone to nightmares," Elizabeta mused. "He did tell me that his father used to hit him when he had bad dreams. Can you believe that? No child deserves to be punished for something they can't help."

Mrs. Héderváry was on the verge of replying, but she stopped and gestured for Elizabeta to turn around. Confused, Elizabeta did-and tried to suppress a giggle.

Gilbert was standing behind her, wearing the sweatshirt Elizabeta had mentioned. Unfortunately, it didn't fit him as well as either would have liked. It was much too tight, and the sleeves ended a few inches above his wrists. Gilbert had a look of intense dissatisfaction on his face.

Elizabeta smiled lightly and said, "You know, you don't look that bad... It's kind of endearing, you know?"

"I look like an idiot," Gilbert muttered.

"I guess we'll have to take you shopping for some real clothes today, Gilbert," Mrs. Héderváry suggested.

Gilbert's eyes widened. "Sh-shopping?"

_**A/N:**_** The mental image of Gilbert wearing Elizabeta's sweatshirt just cracks me up. Just try to imagine it.**

**Fluff... Fluff is fun. I'll try to keep it cute and light-hearted for as long as I can. Hope you enjoyed ;)**


	20. Carry On (fun)

**Author: MercurialLily**  
><strong>Fandom: Hetalia<strong>  
><strong>Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist<strong>  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>  
><strong>Pairing: Eventual PruHun<strong>

**And after the very long hiatus, I am back with this wonderfully long chapter!**

Shopping had always been something that Elizabeta enjoyed. She liked browsing through cute things and trying on pretty clothes. Considering she'd gone to schools that required uniforms all her life, the only time she could wear different clothes were on days off and weekends. Nevertheless, she always made the effort to look nice when she went out in public, even if it was just a quick run to the drugstore. "I've never met anyone who doesn't like shopping," she had said once.

Then she met Gilbert.

It had been a bit of a struggle to get him into the car after the mention of shopping. He tried to convince Elizabeta that no, he didn't need to get new clothes. Finally, after some persuasion, Gilbert stopped putting up a fight and reluctantly entered the car.

Elizabeta laughed slightly when she glanced in the rear-view mirror to look at Gilbert. He had realized that going out in public could possibly mean running into someone from school, so he demanded a disguise. However, seeing as there wasn't too much in the house that could be used as a makeshift disguise, he had to improvise using an over-sized coat, floppy hat, and sunglasses. He looked like a complete dork.

"Gilbert, you don't have to wear that get-up," Mrs. Héderváry said. "I seriously doubt you'll see anyone you know."

"You never know. It's better to be safe than sorry," Gilbert replied.

Mrs. Héderváry glanced at Elizabeta, who shook her head and shrugged. The rest of the car ride was silent, save for the occasional cough from Gilbert. When they finally arrived at the mall, Mrs. Héderváry said, "You kids go wherever you like. Just stick together, and don't talk to people you don't know. Oh, and make sure you eat at some point-"

"Mom, we'll be fine," Elizabeta interjected. "Trust me." Then she turned in her seat to look at Gilbert. "If you agree to try stuff on, I'll buy you lunch. Deal?"

Gilbert perked up at the prospect of food, and he nodded eagerly. "Deal," he said.

"Be safe," Mrs. Héderváry called as the kids got out of the car. Elizabeta took Gilbert's hand, and they both ran inside to get out of the rain. Once they made it indoors, Elizabeta didn't even give Gilbert a chance to catch his breath before she dragged him into a nearby store.

"We need to get you practical things since winter's coming soon," Elizabeta said, rifling through a rack of clothes. "Ooh, we also have to get stuff for school. White shirts, ties, you know, like that." She grabbed several shirts and tossed them at Gilbert and said, "Go try these on, and I'll find you some more things."

"I... Okay, sure," Gilbert said with a shrug, wandering off in the direction of the change rooms.

As Elizabeta continued searching the store for clothes, she heard someone calling out to her: "Excuse me, you're Elizabeta Héderváry, right?" Elizabeta spun around.

A girl was standing near one of the clothing racks. She had neatly curled dark pigtails and a small smile on her face. She also looked vaguely familiar. "You are Elizabeta, aren't you?" the girl asked. "In Mr. Vargas' homeroom class?"

Elizabeta nodded. "Yeah, I am. And you are...?"

"Oh, silly me! I'm Michelle. Michelle Kent," the girl said. "I sit behind Natalya."

"Right. I've seen you. Um..." Elizabeta trailed off. She had no clue why this Michelle girl was talking to her, and she felt a little strange being seen holding guy clothes. "Why did you feel the need to approach me?" she asked, trying not to sound stupid.

Michelle's smile widened. "I'm having a little party at my place next Saturday, and I was wondering if you'd like to come!" she said.

"A...party?"

"Yeah! Everyone from our grade is coming, plus some older kids I know," Michelle explained. "It'll be fun. So...you want to come? The more the merrier!"

Elizabeta thought for a moment. "Well, it sounds like it could be fun..." She nodded. "Sure, I'll come."

"Great. That is great." Michelle pulled a small slip of paper from her pocket and held it out. "This has my address and number. Just text me if you have any questions, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for inviting me," Elizabeta said.

"No problem. See you later." With a wink and a wave, Michelle turned and walked away.

Elizabeta stuffed the paper in her pocket and made her way to the change rooms, calling, "Gilbert, where are you? I have more things for you to try on!"

She heard a response from the nearest room: "I look stupid. Please don't make me try on more clothes."

"I'm sure you don't look stupid. Let me see."

"No."

"Gilbert, if you want lunch, then let me see you," Elizabeta said. "Please?"

There was a sigh, followed by a click. The door opened slowly, and Gilbert peeked out. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Now why would I laugh? That would just be mean." Elizabeta smiled softly. "So let me see?"

"Oh, all right." Slowly, Gilbert opened the door all the way. The unfortunate thing was, he did look a little stupid: The shirt was buttoned wrong and the collar was turned up. He looked rather uncomfortable.

Elizabeta shook her head with a sigh. "You goof. I'll have to teach you how to properly button a shirt."

"It's a lot harder than it looks," Gilbert muttered.

"Don't worry, you'll figure it out," Elizabeta said. Then she held out the other clothes she had selected. "We'll go to lunch soon. Just try these on first."

. . . .

Elizabeta learned a lot about Gilbert that afternoon.

First, he really _was_ terrible at buttoning shirts. He tried, but it was amazingly difficult for him, so Elizabeta had to do it for him. Despite all of Gilbert's complaining, he still agreed to let Elizabeta buy the clothes.

Then there was the whole "buying lunch" thing. When they first arrived at the food court, Gilbert had been in awe of all the food choices. Elizabeta had told him that he could get whatever he wanted. Gilbert was delighted, but he had no idea how to order for himself. So Elizabeta had to order for him.

It had been a rather tiring day, having to do everything for Gilbert. But Elizabeta hadn't minded too much. She had actually very much enjoyed spending the day with him. She just wished he could be a little more independent.

At present Elizabeta was in her room getting ready for bed. As she pulled her hair to the side and began to braid it, she thought about the party invitation she had received. She'd never been to a party before (well, she had attended several birthday parties when she was young, but they didn't really count), and she kind of wanted to go. Michelle seemed like a decent, well-rounded girl. Would it really be that bad to take a risk and meet new people? "I think I'll give it a shot," she thought aloud.

"Give what a shot?"

Elizabeta looked up. Gilbert was leaning against the door frame, munching on an apple. He seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Oh... Uh, nothing." She didn't exactly want to mention the party to Gilbert. He probably wouldn't want her to go, and even if she offered to bring him along he'd more than likely refuse. But he was really her best chance at learning more about Michelle. So, as casually as possible, she asked, "What can you tell me about Michelle Kent?"

Gilbert looked a little surprised by her question, but he still gave her an answer. "She's kind of class president, I guess. And she's been top of the class since like elementary school. She's super smart. She's probably the one person I don't want to punch. Besides you, of course. She has a huge family and I think she speaks like a million languages." He shrugged. "She's not too bad, I suppose."

"Okay, thanks," Elizabeta said. "You've helped a lot."

"Wait. Why do you want to know about her?"

Elizabeta opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't entirely sure what to say. So she just shook her head and shrugged slightly. "No reason."

"Come on, tell me!" Gilbert walked over to Elizabeta's bed and sat down beside her. "Please? I want to know."

"Well, it's just..." Elizabeta chewed on her lip before she continued. "I kind of ran into her at the mall today and she introduced herself and then invited me to this party she's hosting next weekend. And I was thinking of going."

"Were you thinking of taking me?"

"I didn't think you wanted to come, to be honest," Elizabeta said. "You're the one who told me you don't like socializing. I mean, I'm pretty sure it'll just be a bunch of teenagers sitting around doing nothing. Does that kind of thing interest you?"

"Nope. But I'd go so I could hang out with you." With a small shrug, Gilbert went on, "You're cool. You seem like you'd have a lot of fun being around other people. So you do what you want. I don't have to come. I'll just stay here, I guess."

"Gilbert." Elizabeta reached over and gently took his hand in hers. "I really would like you to come to the party with me. It could be fun. But it's entirely your choice."

"Okay... I'll think about it," Gilbert said softly.

Elizabeta offered a sweet smile. "All right. Now finish that apple and start getting ready for bed. It's getting late."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." There was the smallest bit of sarcasm in his voice, but by now Elizabeta felt that was just his default voice. She remained quiet as Gilbert got up from the bed and left the room.

_He really is a sweet guy. I wish more people could understand that. I've never met anyone like him before. Maybe no one else sees it, but I know that he just wants love and approval._

She was so convinced that she just wanted to be his friend. Nothing more. But then another thought entered her mind.

_Wait... Is it possible that...? No, it can't be. That's just ridiculous. No. It's not possible. Right?_

_I'm not actually falling for him, am I?_

_**A/N: **_**Chapter 20. Holy crap. Did not expect it to get this far.**

**Michelle Kent-Seychelles (thanks to ChibiPandaYuki for suggesting I add her!)**

**I'm terribly sorry that I've taken forever to update. Life has just been really difficult recently, which is probably why I've been writing all this cutesy fluff (to distract myself, I guess). I'm kind of in the midst of an emotional crisis and this story is one of the few things keeping me (mostly) sane at the moment. I'm writing this story for you.**


End file.
